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(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No    2) 


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i-    ■v"r:'^?i 

The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


Francis  Parkman's  Works 


nomzRS  or  fkarce  hi  the  rew  woild  ■  i  vol. 

THE  JESVITS  m  HOKTH  AXOOCA I  vol. 

LA  SAUE  AUD  the  DISCOVEKT  or  THE  GKEAT 

WEST Ivol. 

THE  OLD  liGIME  Dl  CAHADA I  TOl. 

COUHT  rRORTERAC  AUD  HZW  ERAHCE  XHIDEK 

LOtFISZIV I  vol. 

A  HALr-CEHTURT  Or  COHnJCT 3  voU. 

MOirrCALM  AUD  WOLTE 3voU. 

THE  consraucT  or  roinuc  ahd  the  qidiah 

WAR  ATTER  the  CONQUEST  OE  CAHADA .  3  voU. 

THE  OREGOH  TRAIL I  vol. 

A  LIEE  or  rRAIICIS  rAREMAIf,  BT  CHARLES 

HAIGHT  EARHHAM I  vol. 


iiimi  .Ml  L  •mmmmmmm 


PoRTltAll    of    FlSANCIS    I'AKK3IAX. 


A 


The 
Struggle  for  a  Continent 

Edited  from  the  Writings  of 
Francis  Parkman 

By 

Pelham    Edgar,  Ph.D. 

Professor  in  rhe  French  Language  and  Literature,  Victoria  College,  University-  of 

Toronto,  and  formerly  Fellow  in  English  in  the 

Johns  Hopkins  Univereity 


IVlth  Numerom  Illustrations,  including  Portraits, 
Full-page  Plates,  Maps,  etc. 


Boston 

Little,  Brown,  i^  Company 

1902 


■  inMBiWp 


11^8436 


Entered  According  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  Years 
1865,  1867,  1869, 

By  Francis  Parkman, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District 
of  Massachusetts. 

Entered  According  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  Years 

1870,  1874,  1877,  1879.  "SUj, 

By  Fran-CIS  Parkman, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 

Copyris/it,  /8S4,  iSgs,  iSgj, 
By  Francis  Parkman. 

Copyright,  /Sgs,  iSgr,  iSgS, 
By  Grace  P.  CorriN  and  Katherine  S.  Coolidge, 

Copyright,  /Sq7,  jSgS,  igo2. 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company. 


Published  October,  1902 


university  press  •  John  wilson 

AKD    SUN     -     CAMBHinOF,    V.  S.  A. 


Editor's  Note 

In  the  following  pages  the  effort  has  been  made  to  present  a 
succinct  and  coLtiuuous  narrative  of  early  American  history, 
hased  iiijon  the  masterly  volumes  of  Francis  Parkman.  The 
editor  has  souglit  to  preserve  the  picturesqueness  of  the 
in-idents  which  Parkman  has  so  graphically  described,  and 
to  this  end  has  .ot  deviated  from  the  actual  language  of 
tlie  original,  save  to  furnish  the  necessary  counectiiig  links. 
The  chief  difficulty  of  the  work  was  so  to  select  the  material 
that  it  should  be  alike  intrinsically  interesting  and  tell  a 
consecutive  story. 


PELHAM  EDGAR. 


* 


Contents 


Fabi 

France  and  ENdLAND  i\  thk  Nkw  Would  —  iNTRoni  ctory  1 

1513-1.^28.   Eakly  Spanish  Advkntiikk      .     .          ....  5 

l.'iSD-l.jll.   Hernando  dk  Soto 7 

l.")6-.'-l.">t;;j.    IIucuKxoTs  IN  Florida  —  ,Ikan  Rihaut    ...  10 

I5ti4-liiti.i.     liAI'DONNIERE Jg 

1 JG5.    The  Famine  at  Fort  Caroline  (with  Map  of 

Florida) 20 

15t)5.    Menendez 27 

15(>5.   Massacre  of  the  Heretics 46 

I5fi7-156S.    Expedition  of  Dominique  de  Govrgues      .     .  55 

l.'>34-1607.    The  Story  of  Cartier's  Discoveries      ...  69 
1541-1604.   Vov.voes    of    De    Roberval,    De    la    Roche, 

Pontgrave,  and  De  Monts 80 

1608.   CiiAMPLAix's  Third  Voyage  to  Canada      .    .  8.-} 

1608.  Founding  of   Quebec ...  88 

1609.  Champlain's  E.\PEDiTroN  against  the  Iroquois  !)6 

1610.  Champlain's  Search  for  a  Route  to  the  Indies  107 

161.'j.    Advent  of  the  llfecoLLKTs 114 

1615.   Discovery  of  Lake  Huron  (with  Map)  ...  115 

1627-1632.  Champlain's  Closing  Years 120 

1635.    Death  of  Champlain 123 

J  608-1 763.   France  and  England  in  America 125 

1608.    The  Jesuits 130 

1642.   Founding  of  Montreal 135 


T 


Vhl 


1649- 

lOGO- 
1(103- 
1C65- 
16tJ3- 
1C72- 
1078- 

1681-: 

1659- 


1649. 
1649. 
1658. 
1660. 
1666. 

1  7t;;5. 

1672. 
1763. 
1673. 
1687. 
1680. 
1682. 
1687. 
1708. 
1689. 
1690. 


1092. 
1692-1693. 
1 696-1 7.>0. 
1694-1704. 

1704. 

1724. 
1726-1750. 
1745-1755. 

1745-1755. 
1745-1755. 
1745-1755. 

1734. 
1700-1755. 

1753. 


Contents 

Paoe 

IlriN   OK    TIIK   Jll  Kii.NS 141 

TlIK    MAKTYliS 149 

Failukk  ok  the  .iKsnr.H 153 

The  IIkuoks  ok  thk  Lom;  .Saut 157 

Tjik  Old  IIkoimk 165 

Canada  as  a  Uoyai.  I'kuvinck  (with  Mat)      .  169 

Talo.n's  Admimstkation 174 

Thk  CoiKEUiis  vk  IJois 180 

Discovery  ok  the  Missif*sii'Pi  (with  Mai-)  .    .  186 

La  Salle 195 

La  Salle's  Wintek  Joiuxey 198 

La  Salle's  Discoveky  ok  Lol'i.sia.na   ....  208 

Assassinatio.v  of  La  Salle 215 

Francois  de  Laval 223 

The  Iroqiois  Terkoii 230 

The  Massachlsetts  Expedition  against  Que- 

itEC 234 

The  Heroine  ok  Vercheues 243 

Frontenac  and  the  Iroqiois 249 

The  French,  English,  and  Indians    ....  256 

Detroit  (with  Map) 2f5 

The  Attack  on  Deerkield 272 

Lovewell's  Fight 287 

The  Chain  of  Posts 297 

America    and  the   Seven  Years  War   (with 

Map) 301 

The  Combatants  (England  and  France)   .     .  303 

The  American  Combatants 314 

The  Thirteen  British  Colonies 319 

Sir  William  Johnson 329 

Collision  of  the  Rival  Colonies 333 

Mission  of  Washington 335 


Contents  j^^ 

l<o4.   Alarm  ok  ijik  I.nuians 33^ 

Kjj.    TuK  First  Shot  Fikkd 3,,. 

I'oo.    Brai>iiock'8  Mau(ii  a.m.  I)i:ki:at  343 
17jj.   Acadia,    Xiauara,    and    Cuowx    Point  — Tiik 

Uattle  ok  Lakk  Gkokuk 351 

Kofi       CAMl-AUiN    ok    1750  — Loss    OK    OSWMJO          ...       358 
1757-1759.    TlIK  Ca.MI'AIOX  ok   1757-1751) 3,53 

1758.  Loud  Howe     ....  „..„ 

3oo 

1759.  Thk  Advent  ok  Wolfe 359 

1759.   Plan  ok  Invasion 3gQ 

1759.    Wolke  at  Qleuec  (with  Mai) 382 

1759.  The  Heights  ok  Auraham 415 

1760.  After  the  Fall  of  Quebec 446 

1760.    British  Slpremacy 452 

1762.  Preliminaries  of  Peace 454 

1763-1884.   The  Results  of  Victory •    .    457 

The  Character  and  Customs  of  the  Indian  460 

1760.   PoNTiAc's  Conspiracy 47.J 

1763.  Indian  Preparation 479 

1763.  The  Threatened  Attack  against  Detroit     .  486 

1763.    The  Treachery  of  Pontiac 433 

1763.   Fight  of  Bloody  Bridge 492 

1763-1764.  The  Closing  Events  of  the  Indian  War  .     .  502 

1763.  The  Battle  of  Bushy  Run 503 

1763.  Incidents  of  the  Frontier gjQ 

1764.  The  Defeat  of  Pontiac 523 


r 


List  of  Illustrations 

Fran.i.s  P.iikman 

Kru„,    .:ho.;,Kra",,h.'     '     '     '     "     •     '         Fronti,,,iere 
Landing  of  IJihanf, 

Urawii  by  o.  UonrK.iiii.  '  "^^ 

Iicne  (If  Laiulonnii-re     .... 

Kr.,n.  a„  .n.r.uu,  by  Cri,,.i„  Ue  R,«.,  \„  ,[„.  aMioiU^,i„^H^,„Ja,.  "         '  ^ 

Sir  J()lin  Hawkins     .... 
Krom  the  „r,«,na<  p..imi,^  by  Zuoc,,..:,  i,i  „.  p.;,«.„„.„.:  „/  „,„  "         ^^ 

M.iry  b.  W.  Hawkiii,,  Plymouth,  Kiigliuid. 

I'eilro  MculmkIcz  du  Avilos 

' ,      ,  £;  07 

After  an  oM  Si>aui»li  ciigraviuK. 

I>oniini(]ne  ile  (Jourgnes 
Krom  an  engraving  by  I.  K.  U.L.„,  \,  o,e  Bibli«tb.'.;,ue  Nat'ionale.  '  ^'         ^" 

Jaccjues  Carticr 

From  tb,.  original  ,«unting  by  P.  Rj,,'.  i„  Ua-'rown  Hall'of  St    '  "         ^^ 

Malo,  France. 

Janiiios  Carrier  Discovers  the  St.  Lawren.P  Itivor        r     ■ 
Fro™  the  origU.a,  painting  by  0«ain,..tb!;3;:!c;:;:^-       ^"^'"^  ^"'^^       '^ 

Samuel  de  Clianiplain 

From  the  Du.ornet  Portrait. ^'^*  *** 

ri're  le  Jeune   .... 

«'       1  •j.'j 

From  an  old  engraving. 

iML'ure  of  Chomedy  do  Maisouneuvo 

From  the  Maisonneuve  Monument  by  Pl,i,i,,peH..ter't,  in  the"      '      '  '        '^"^ 

Platte  D'Armes,  Montreal. 

IVIadanio  de  la  Peltrie      .... 
From  the  painting  by  C.  Knot,  in  the  Convent  de',  U^nline,,' Quebec'.  "        ' ^^ 

An  East  Vi.\v  of  Montreal  ^     • 

From  an  engraving  by  P.  Canot.  after  a  d.wing  by  Thoma.  Patton.  "^  ^"'''  ' '' 

Rust  of  Jean  de  Brebcuf 

Fron,  the  silver  bust  in  the  Hotel  Dieu,  Quebec.        "       '  ^''^^  '  ^' 


r 


xH  List  of  Illustriitions 

Dt-ath  of  DollnnI Facimj  pmje  10  J 

Bos-rrlitif  (ruiD  tlip  Maiaotiiiciive  Mniiiinidit  liy  I'liili|i|W  Hi-b«rt, 
in  till'  I'litcu  D'Ariuen,  Muiitri'ul. 

LduiH  XIV page  lue 

Kruiu  the  urigiukl  |aiutiiig  by  Jean  UarniiT,  in  tlitt  Veruillvii  Oollery. 

Jean  Talon "171 

Frum  tliu  original  painting  in  tliu  lluti'l  Dieu,  QuuUic. 

Marquis  <lc  iVnonville "      iso 

From  the  painting  iu  the  coUiH'ticin  of  thu  Unrunne  la  Lareinty. 

Starvfd  Uock,  on  tlio  Illinois  ItiviT     .     .  ....  "       19G 

Fruui  a  photograph. 

Assassination  of  I.a  Salle Fncinrj  piuje  220 

Kroiu  thu  drawing  by  Howard  Pyle. 

Fran(;'ois  Xavier  dc  Laval-Montniorency Puge  221 

From  the  original  painting  iu  Liival  Uuivemity,  Quebec. 

Figure  of  Count  Frontenac •«      249 

From  the  statue  by  Philippe  Hubert,  in  Quebec. 

Hortel  <lc  llouville .     .  "      272 

From  the  original  painting  owned  by  Mrx.  H.  de  KuuviUe,  Montreal 

The  Return  from  I kerfk'ld Fncing page  2Hi 

From  a  painting  by  Howard  Pyle. 

Sir  AVilliam  -Fohnson .     .  Page  329 

From  an  engravmg  by  Spoouer,  after  the  painting  by  T.  Adams. 

William  r»;nn «      332 

From  the  painting  in  tho  r.'8'«'''8ion  of  the  Hiatoiical  Society  of 
Peuusylvaui:;. 

George  Wasliiiif;ton "      335 

From  the  painting  by  Gilbert  Stuart. 

Loril  Clive        «      341 

From  a  painting  by  Nathaniel  Dance,  li.  A,,  iu  the  National  Portrait 
Gallery. 

Daniel  Ilyacintlie  Marie  Lienard  de  IVanjcu  ....  »'      345 

From  a  pastel  miniature  iu  the  posscsaiou  of  Abbe  Verreau,  Montreal. 

Deatb  of  Braddock "849 

From  an  engraving  by  Edmund  Scott. 


List  of  Illustrations  xiii 

Colonel  RolHTt  Moti.kltm    . 

From  .  n.e„..,int  en^avi...  hy  J.,h,.  »•»,..,,  '^.^^  e^' ^.;,„i„;  .  ''"^^  ^'' ' 

Ui'iijiuuiii  Wt-Dt. 

Comtf  (le  Boiijrainville 

Kr„.n  the  paJntiuK  i„  „.«  ,K,«e«i'o„  of  Co,ut.w'.le  8t.  liauveur"  "       ^^''^ 

Hoiilfainvllle,  St.  Oi.nii«iii.|.ii.Laye. 

A  View  of  r^>iii>l)oiir^',  in  N„rtl,  Amerira  »'  „• 

»W.  a..  ...,.vi...  Uy  K  C.„o..  «,.,  ,  12^;,^,^,  ,...;.     ''"•"••'  ^^''  ^«  » 

Miijor  UolHTt  Ko-;ers 

Kn.111  a  moMotiut  eii(fraviii(f. "''''  '"'*' 

Miljor-fJcneral  James  Wolfe 

From  tl.«  original  ,,„i,„i„g  ,,y  j„.,p,,  Hi,,„n,„re.  I,',  .hi.  ,K.',«««io„'  "        ^ '  ' 

of  Mr«.  M«ry  Aiiiie  Anii«troiig,  Peiua.,,e,  K„glu,d. 

Duke  of  Xewcastle 

Kro...  tl...  original  ,«i„ti„g  ,,y  Hoare.  i.,  the  collection  of  thu  Duk,  "       '' " 

of  Newcastle. 

Sir  Charles  Saunders 

From  a  meziotint  engraving  by  J.  McArdell.        "      '      '  378 

■Sir  JefTrey  Amherst  .     . 

"  OOn 

From  a  mezzotint  engraving. 
Jfarqiiis  (le  Vaiidrcuil     .... 

From  the  painting  in  the  poa««.io„  of 'the  Comtesl.,  de  Cl'enn'ont-'  ''       ^^' 

Tonnerre,  ChSteau  of  Brugny,  Mame. 

Ursuline  Convent,  (iucbee 

From  the  painting  in  the  p08i«„ion  of  the  Order,  Queb«i,.    '      '  "       ^^^ 

The  Fulls  of  Montinorenci  .  r-    • 

From  an  engraving  by  Wiiliam  Kiliot;.ft;r  a'drawing  by  Captain  '^  '^''  '"* 

Hervey  Smyth. 

A  View  of  Quel)ec  from  Point  Levi   .  « 

From  an  engraving  by  ".  Canot,  after  a  drawing  by  Richard'short.  '  ^^^ 

Chevalier  de  Ldvis     . 

From  the  painting  by  Mme.  Ha„debom,"in  the  Verslilie",  oluery.    "  '^"^^  "^^ 

View  of  Cap-Kouge    . 

From  an  engraving  by  Peter  Maz^n.  after  a  drawing  by  Captain  "       ^^^ 

Hervey  Smyth. 

Marquis  de  Montcalm    .... 

From  the  original  painting  i„  ,he'  pos^a^ion'  of  theMa^ni',  de'  "       ^^^ 

Montcalm. 


xiv  List  of  Illustrations 

Dialh  of  Wolfe Pai/e  U5 

Kruiu  ■  uieiiotiiit  ciiRraviiiR  by  Richard  lIoiiHton,  utter  the  palot- 
tiiR  by  KUwArtl  IViiiiy. 

The  Fall  of  Moiitralm Facing  page  446 

Frum  B  lukiutiiiK  by  Howard  Pyle. 

Coloni'l  Henry.  HoiKHiLt Piijn  503 

Fruiu  tli«  iiriKiiiiil  iniiiitliit;  nutici)  by  Hi'iiry  M.  KiiibiT,  Kaq.,  and 
UeorRH  Hurriiiuii  Kiabrr,  Kih|.,  AIvi'rthur|K>,  Pa. 

Maps 

Floriila,  ^r,r,r, Page    21 

Uoiife  of  Chainplain,  ICl'.-Kllfi "      llfi 

Canada  and  Adjacent  Coiintrii-s "170 

Countrii'S  Traversed  by  Mariiuette,  I(enne]>in,  and  La 

Salle "      IHH 

Forts  and  Sittltni.nf-^  of  Detroit        "      2Cfi 

Hritisli  Col. miis  anil  Nuillicin   New  France.  1750-1  "GO  "      304 

Siege  of  Quebec,  1 7:i9 '•      ;187 


INTRODUCTION 

ri!ANCi8  PAf  MAX,  the  historian  of  early  Canada,  was  Ikihi  in 
lioston.  Massa.  i. setts,  on  the  16th  of  September,  1823.  His 
father,  the  Kev.  Francis  I'arkn.an.  ami  his  mother,  Caroline 
TIall.  were  both  descende.l  fmm  many  generati<.nH  that  hud 
J.f.!  .,„ee  the  days  of  the  early  Puritan  settlement  in  the 
heart  of  New  Kngland. 

After  an  uneventful  boyhood.  Francis  Parkman  entered 
Harvard   College  in  the  year   1840.      During  his   college 
course,  as  his  biograj.her  Mr.  Farnham  relates,  «  l,e  devoted 
liunself  with  ardor  and  concentration  to  his  si)ecial  interests, 
-the  study  of  rhetoric  and  history,  the  pursuit  of  physical 
development,  and  a  knowle.lge  of  the  American  wil.lerness." 
Still  early  in  his  college  career  he  seems  to  have  shaiHjd 
with  characteristic  determination  the  purple  of  his  life's  work. 
His  vr.eations  were  not  the  customary  pericxls  of  indolent  re- 
la-xation.     m  the  summer  of  1841  he  began  those  researches 
in  the  wdd.Muess  which  were  resumed  in  successive  vaca- 
tions, until  scarcely  a  battle-field  of  the  old  colonial  days  was 
unfamiliar  to  his  eyes.     His  investigations  led  him  first  to  the 
i.eighboring  wildernes.s,  then  already  subdued   by  the  ad- 
vance of  civilizati..n.     In  1S46,  however,  two  years  after  his 
giaduation,  he  determined  to  penetrate  into  the  far  West 
where  savage  life  in  all  its  primitiveutss  might  still  be  seen' 
Thus  origmated  that  adventurous  e^peditiou  of  the  Oregon 


XVI 


Introduction 


A 


Trail,  which  was  to  give  him  sudi  an  iutimate  knowledge  of 
Indian  and  frontier  lift',  Init  which, to  his  misfortune,  induced 
<ir  aggravated  tlie  severe  pliysical  maladies  which  left  him  a 
sufferer  until  his  deatli. 

"The  Oregon  Trail  tri]),"  as  Mr.  Farnham  writes,  "thus 
cost  Parkman  liis  health  for  life;  but  so  predominant  was 
Ills  amliition,  so  niucli  did  lie  vahie  his  Indian  studies,  and 
so  little  coniiiassion  liad  he  for  his  pliysical  being,  that  he 
never  regretted  tliis  costly  but  fruitful  exj)erience.  From 
that  time  onward  he  was  never  free  from  illness  of  some 
sort.  One  or  another  of  his  maladies  was  always  undermin- 
ing his  forces;  making  liis  persistent  industry  and  fortitude 
one  of  the  most  impressi\e  examples  of  human  achievement 
and  endurance." 

After  his  return  from  the  West,  despite  his  harassing  in- 
firmities, he  persisted  in  his  literary  labors,  and  soon  carried 
to  their  conchision  an  account  of  the  Oregon  Trail,  and  the 
story  of  the  "  Conspiracy  of  I'ontiac,"  which,  though  written 
first,  stands  chronologically  last  in  the  series  of  Ms  historical 
works.^ 

The  rest  of  his  life  is  the  record  of  the  ambition  of  his 
youth  realizing  itselt  in  the  face  of  j)hysical  and  mental  in- 
firmities which  might  well  have  given  pause  to  the  strongest 


1  Tlie  list  of  Parkman's  historical  works,  with  the  dates  of  their  appearance, 
is  as  follows: 

ISjl.     The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac.     2  vols. 

France  ami  England  in  North  America. 
18(55.     Parti.   The  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World.    1  vol. 
1SC7.     Part  II.    The  Jesuits  in  North  America.     1vol. 
1800.     Part  III.    La  Salle  and  the  Discovery  of  the  Great  West.     1  vol. 
1874.     Part  IV.   The  Old  KiVime.     1vol. 

1877.     Part  V.   Count  Frontenac  .ind  New  France  under  Louis  XIV.   1  vol. 
1384.     Part  VII.   Montcalm  and  Wolfe.    2  vob. 
1892.     r.irtVL     A  Half-Centuiy  of  Conflict.     2  vols. 


Introduction  xvii 

nature.  "  I  liave  not  yet  abandoned  any  plan  which  I  have 
ever  formed,"  he  once  wrote  to  a  friend,  and  the  plans  which 
he  formed  demanded  the  severest  application  for  their  ful- 
filment. 

Apait  from  the  successive  appearance  of  liis  histories 
there  are  few  events  to  record  in  his  life.  In  1850  he  mar. 
ricd,  and  in  his  eight  years  of  happy  married  life  tliree  chil- 
<lrcn  were  born.  He  suffered  a  great  bereavement  in  the  loss 
of  liis  son  in  1857,  to  Ije  followed  in  the  next  year  by  the 
death  of  his  wife. 

Tlie  crisis  of  his  illness  was  reached  in  1859,  and  for  four- 
teen years  his  physical  and  mental  condition  were  so  pre- 
carious as  utterly  to  preclude  the  prosecution  of  his  historical 
researches.     No  signs  of  actual  insanity  ever  made  their  ap- 
pearance, but  literary  exertion  during  this  period  might  have 
led  to  a  breaking  down  of  his  mental  faculties.     «  The  con- 
dition of  his  brain,"  his  biographer  writes, «  made  the  least 
literary  labor  suicidal ;  he  was  called  upon  to  face  the  cer- 
tainty of  permanent  invalidism  and  the  probability  of  never 
reaching  the  goal  of  his  ambition.     The  way  in  which  he 
met '  the  enemy '  was  characteristic  of  his  courage,  cheerful- 
ness, and  common  sense.     Out  of  the  most  depressing  cir- 
cumstances he  not  only  wrung  a  notable  success  in  the 
conduct  of  his  life,  but  contributed  greatly  to  the  happiness 
of  others.     Seeing  the  temple  of  fame  closed  against  him,  he 
turned  to  Nature  for  consolation.     Horticulture  became  his 
exclusive  occupation  for  several  years  —  until  his  health  per- 
mitted him  to  resume  his  pen.     His  success  in  this  field  is 
the  more  noteworthy,  because  he  had  neither  scientific  train- 
ing nor  much  money  to  devote  to  the  undertaking.    After 
mastering  the  principles  of  the  science  by  reading,  he  threw 
mto  gardening  the  same  ardor  and  painstaking  persever- 


i  \ 


4 


'it 


xviii  Introduction 

ance  that  subsequently  carried  hiui  to  success  in  writing 

history." 

His'  long  enforced  idleness  was  broken  in  1865  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  "  Pioneers  of  France."  From  then  until  1892 
his  works  continued  to  appear  in  steady  succession.  At  the 
time  of  his  death,  on  the  8th  of  November,  1893,  his  fame 
was  assured  throughout  Europe  and  America. 

The  pages  which  follow  will  attest  the  qualities  of  his 
genius.  The  natural  diirnity  of  his  life  and  his  force  of  char- 
acter find  their  true  retk-clion  in  his  work.  iLis  faculties  are 
held  in  i»erf*'ct  equipoise.  Always  master  of  his  emotion,  he 
never  permits  false  sentiment  to  deface  his  treatment  of  char- 
acter, nor  his  presentation  of  events.  Yet  his  enthusiasm  for 
the  more  virile  of  his  personages,  for  La  Salle,  for  Frontenac, 
and  for  Wolfe  is  unmistakable,  and  his  admiration  for  suffer- 
ing heroically  endured  has  all  the  virtue  of  unobtnisive 
sympathy. 

'  To  these   qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  which  of  them- 
selves would  suffice  to  furnish  forth  an  historian  of  rare 
merit,  must   be  added  a  conscientious  regard  for  truth  of 
detail,  which  was  born  of  the  love  of  his  subject,  and  nour- 
ished by  years  of  unremitting  industry.     But  it   must  be 
borne  in  mind  that  "  faithfulness  to  the  truth  of  historv  "  as 
Parkman  once  wrote,  "  involves  far  more  than  a  research, 
however  patient  and   scrupulous,  into  special  facts.     Such 
facts  may  he  detailed  with  the  most  minute  exactness,  and 
yet  the  narrative,  taken  as  a  whole,  may  be  unmeaning  or 
untrue."    "  These,"  said  Professor  John  Fiske,  «  are  golden 
words  for  the  student  of  the  historical  art  to  ponder.     To 
make  a  truthful  record  of  a  vani.shed  age,  patient  scholar- 
ship is  needed,  and  something  more.     Into  the  making  of  a 
historian  there  should  enter  something  of  the  philosopher, 


Introduction  xix 

something  of  tlie  naturalist,  something  of  the  poet  In 
Parkman  this  rare  union  of  qualities  was  realized  in  a 
greater  deg,-ee  than  in  any  other  American  historian  In- 
deed,  I  doubt  if  tlie  nineteenth  century  can  show  in  any  part 
..f  the  world  another  historian  quite  his  equal  in  respect  of 
such  a  union." 


THE  STRUGGLE 
/or  A  CONTINENT 


FRANCE  AND  ENGLAND   IN  THE  NEW 
WORLD.  —  INTRODUCTORY 

The  sul.j(ct  is  that  of  "France  in  the  New  World," ^  —  the 
attempt   of  Feudalism,  Monarchy,  and   Rome  to  master  a 
continent;  — Feudalism  still  strong  in  life, though  enveloped 
and  overborne  by  new-born  Centralization;  Monarchy  in 
the  flush  of  triumphant  power ;  Rome,  nerved  by  disaster, 
springing  with  renewed  vitality  from  ashes  and  corruption, 
and  ranging  the  earth  to  reconquer  abroad  what  she  had 
lost  at  home.    These  banded  powers,  pushing  into  the  wilder- 
ness their  indomitable  soldiers  and  devoted  priests,  unveiled 
the  secrets  of  the  barbarous  continent,  pierced  the  forests, 
traced  and  mapped  out  the  streams,  planted  their  emblems,' 
built  their  forts,  and  claimed  aU  as  their  own.    New  France 
was  all  head.     Under  king,  noble,  and  Jesuit,  the  lank,  lean 
body  would  not  thrive.    Even  commerce  wore  the  sword 
decked  itself  with  badges    of  nobUity,  aspired  to  forest 
seigniories  and  hordes  of  savage  retainers. 

Along  the  borders  of  the  sea  an  adverse  power  was  strength- 
ening and  widening,  with  slow  but  steadfast  growth,  full  of 
blood  and  muscle, -a  body  without  a  head.  Each  had  its 
strength,  each  its  weakness,  each  its  own  modes  of  vigorous 

»  From  the  Introduction  tr         .i,Pers  of  France  in  the  New  World. " 


'i    i 


2  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 

life:  but  the  one  was  fnrtful,  the  uthei  barren;  the  one 
iiiHlinct  with  hope,  the  other  darkening  with  shadows  of 
despair. 

liy  name,  local  ])ositi()n,  and  character,  one  of  these  com- 
munities of  freemen  stands  forth  as  the  most  conspicuous 
representative  t)f  this  antagonism  ;  —  Liberty  and  Absolutism, 
New  England  and  New  France.     The  one  was  the  ollspring 
of  a  triumphant  government;  the  other,  of  an  oppressed  and 
fugitive  people:  the  one,  an  unliinching  chami)ion  of  the 
lioniiin  Catholic  reaction  ;  the  other,  a  vanguard  of  the  Re- 
form.    Each  followed  its  natural  laws  of  growth,  and  each 
came  to  its  natural  result.     Vitalized  by  the  principles  of  its 
foundation,  the  Puritan  commonwealth  grew  apace.      New 
England  was  pre-eminently  the  land  of  material  progress. 
Here  the  prize  was  within  every  man's  reach;  patient  in- 
dustry need  never  doubt  its  reward ;  nay,  in  defiance  of  the 
four  Gospels,  assiduity  in  pursuit  of  gain  was  promoted  to 
the  rank  of  a  duty,  and  thrift  and  godliness  were  linked  in 
equivocal  wedlock.     Politically  she  was  free;  socially  she 
suffered  from  that  subtile  and  searching  oppression  which  the 
dominant  opinion  of  a  free  community  may  exercise  over 
the  members  who  compose  it.     As  a  whole,  she  grew  upon 
the  gaze  of  the  world,  a  signal  example  of  expansive  energj- ; 
but  she  has  not  been  fruitful  in  those  salient  and  striking 
forms  of  character  which  often  give  a  dramatic  life  to  the 
aimals  of  nations  far  less  prosperous. 

We  turn  to  New  France,  and  all  is  reversed.  Here  was 
a  bold  attempt  to  crush  under  the  exactions  of  a  grasping 
hierarchy,  to  stifle  under  the  curl)s  and  trappings  of  a  feudal 
monarch v,  a  people  compassed  by  influences  of  the  wildest 
freedom,  —  whose  schools  were  the  forest  and  the  sea,  whose 
trade  was  an  armed  barter  with  savages,  and  whose  daily 


France  and  England  in  the  New  World    3 

life  a  lesson  of  lawless  indeitendence.  lluL  thLs  fierce  spirit 
had  its  vent.  The  story  of  New  France  is  from  the  first  a 
story  of  war:  of  war— for  so  her  founders  believed  — with 
the  adversary  of  mankind  himself;  war  with  savage  tribes 
and  potent  forest  commonwealths ;  war  with  the  encroaching 
powers  of  Heresy  and  of  England.  Her  brave,  untliinking 
IHiople  were  stamiH3d  with  the  soldier's  virtues  and  the  sol- 
dier's faults;  and  in  their  leaders  were  displayed,  on  a  grand 
and  novel  stage,  the  energies,  aspirations,  and  passions  which 
belong  to  hopes  vast  and  vague,  Ul-restricted  powers,  and 
stations  of  command. 

The  growth  of  New  England  was  a  result  of  the  aggregate 
eflorts  of  a  busy  multitude,  each  in  his  narrow  circle  toiling 
for  himself,  to  gather  competence  or  wealth.  The  expansion 
of  New  France  was  the  achievement  of  a  gigantic  ambition 
striving  to  grasp  a  continent.  It  was  a  vain  attempt.  Long 
and  valiantly  her  chiefs  upheld  their  cause,  leading  to  battle 
a  vassal  population,  warlike  as  themselves.  Borne  down  by 
numbers  from  witliout,  wasted  by  corruption  from  within. 
New  France  fell  at  last ;  and  out  of  her  fall  grew  revolutions 
whose  influence  to  this  hour  is  felt  through  every  nation  of 
tlie  civilized  world. 

The  French  dominion  is  a  memory  of  the  past ;  and  when 
we  evoke  its  departed  shades,  they  rise  upon  us  from  their 
graves  in  strange,  romantic  guise.  Again  tlieir  ghostly  camp- 
fires  seem  to  burn,  and  the  fitful  light  is  cast  around  on  lord 
and  vassal  and  black-robed  priest,  mingled  with  wUd  forms 
of  savage  warriors,  knit  in  close  fellowship  on  the  same  stern 
errand.  A  boundless  vision  grows  upon  us;  an  untamed 
continent;  vast  wastes  of  forest  verdure;  mountains  sUent 
in  primeval  sleep;  river,  lake,  and  glimmering  pool ;  wUder- 
ness  oceans  mingling  with  the  sky.     Such  was  the  domain 


4  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 

which  France  con.iuored  for  Civilization.  I'Unned  helmets 
gleamed  in  the  «huae  of  its  forests,  priestly  vestments  m  its 
dens  and  fastnesses  of  ancient  harl-arism.  Men  steeix^d  in 
antique  lear«inJ,^  pale  with  the  dose  hreath  of  the  cloister, 
here  si-ent  the  noon  and  evening  of  their  lives,  ruled  savage 
hordes  with  a  mild,  parental  sway,  and  stood  serene  before 
the  direst  shapes  of  death.  Men  ..f  courtly  nurture,  heirs  to 
the  polish  of  a  far-reachins  ancestry,  here,  with  their  daunt- 
less hardihood,  put  to  shame  the  boldest  sous  of  tod. 


i 


'5'3J 


Early  Spanish  Adventure 


KAULY   SPANISH    ADVKNTinE ' 

TowAKi.s  the  close  (.f  tlie  fifteenth  ceiitury,  Spain  achieved 
lier  final  tnuniph  over  the  infidels  of  (Jranada.  and  made 
her  name  glorious  through  all  generations  l.y  the  discovery 
of  America.     The  religious  zeal  and  romantic  daring  which 
a  l.mg  course  of  Moorish  \vai«  had  called  forth  were  iu>w 
exalted   to   redouhled    fervor.     Every  ship   from   the    New 
World  came  freighted  with  marvels  which  put  the  ficti<.ns 
of  chivalry  to   shame;  and  to   the  Spaiuard   of  that  day 
America  was   a  region  of  wonder  and   mysterv,  of  vague 
and   magnificent   promise.     Thither    adventurers   hastened, 
thirsting  for  glory  and  for  gold,  and   often    mingling  the' 
enthusiasm  of  the  crusader  and  the  valor  of  the  knight-errant 
with  the  bigotry  of  in.juisitor.  and  the  rapacity  of  pirates. 
They  roamed  over  land   and   sea;   they  climbed   unknown 
mountains,  surveyed   unknown  oceans,  pierced   the   sultiy 
intricacies  of  tropical  forests ;  whUe  from  year  to  year  and 
from  day  to  day  new  wonders  were  unfolded,  new  islands 
and  archipelagoes,  new  regions  of  gold  and  pearl,  and  barbaric 
eirpires  of  more  than  Oriental  wealth.     The  extravagance  of 
hope  and  the  fever  of  adventure  knew  no  bounds.     Nor  is  it 
surprising  that  amid  such  waking  marvels  the  imagination 
should  run   wild   in   romantic   dreams ;   that   between   the 
possible  and  the  impossible  the  line  of  distinction  should 
be  but  faintly  drawn,  and  tliat  men  should  be  found  ready 

'  riouc-ers  of  France  in  the  N.w  World.    IluguenoU  in  Florida.  Ch.  I. 


M 


6  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [13a* 

to   stake   lile  a.ul   honor   in   pursuit  of    the   most   iusaue 

fantasies. 

Such  a  man   wa-s  the  veteran   cavalier   Juan    Ponce   de 
Leon.     (Jreedy  of   honor-s   and  of   riches,  he   embarked   at 
Porto    IJico   with    three    hrigantines,   bent   on   schemes   of 
discovery.     T.ut  that  whi<-.h  gave  the  chief  stinuilus  to  his 
enterprise  was  a  story,  current  among  the  Indians  of  Cuba 
and  Hispaniola,  that  on  the  island  of  IMmini,  said  to  be 
one  of  the  IJahamas,  there  was  a  fountain  of   such  virtue, 
tluit,  bathuig  in  its  waters,  old  men  resumed  their  youth. 
It  was  said,  moreover,  that  on  a  neighboring  shore  might 
be  found  a  river  gifted  with  the  same  beneHcent  property, 
and   believed   by  some  to   be   no   other  than   the   Jordan. 
I'once  de   Leon   found   the   island   of  liimini,  but  not  the 
fountain.     Farther  westward,  in  the  latitude  of   thirty  de- 
grees and  eight  minutes,  he  approached  an  unknown  land, 
which  he  named  Florida,  and,  steering  southward,  explored 
its  coast  as  far  as  the  extreme  point  of  the  peninsula,  when, 
after  some  farther  explorations,  he  retraced  his  course   to 

Porto  Rico. 

Ponce  de  Leon  had  not  regained  his  youth,  but  his 
active  spirit  was  unsubdued. 

Nine  years  later  lie  attempted  to  plant  a  colony  in 
Florida ;  the  Indians  attacked  him  fiercely  ;  he  was  mortally 
wounded,  and  died  soon  afterwards  in  Cuba. 

The  voyages  of  Garay  and  Vasquez  de  Ayllon  threw  new 
liaht  on  tlie  discoveries  of  Ponce,  and  the  general  outline 
of'' the  c>  .  its  of  Florida  became  known  to  the  Spaniards. 


«539l 


Hernand( 


Soto 


HKRXAXIH)    DE   S<)TO> 

Ukknamh)   1)k  Soto  was  the  cnmiiaiiion  of  I'izarro  in  tlio 
toiii|UL'st  of  IViu.     L'j  had  come  to  Aiiu'iica  a  iimly  ail- 
veiituror,  with  no  other  fortune  than   his  sword  and  target, 
I5ut  his  exidoits  had  given  him  fame  and  fortune,  and  he 
ai)i.eared  at  court  with  the  retinue  of  a  nobleman.     .Still,  his 
active  energies  could  not  endure  repose,  and  his  avarice  and 
ambition  goaded  him  to  fresh  enterprises.     He  asked  and 
obtained  permission  to  contjuer  Florida.     While  this  design 
was  in  agitation,  Cubeca   de  Vaca,  one  of   tnose  who  had 
survived  the  expedition  of  Narvaez,  appeared  in  Spain,  and 
for   imrposes   of  his  own    spread  abroad   the    mischievous 
falsehood,  that  Florida  was  the  richest  countr>-  yet  discov- 
ered.    De   Soto's   plans   were   embraced    v/ith    enthusiasm. 
Nobles  and  gentlemen  contended  for  the  privilege  of  joining 
his  standard ;  and,  setting  sail  with  an  ample  armament,  he 
landed  at  the   Hay  of  Espiritu  Santo,  now  Tampa  Bay,  in 
Fl(jri(la,  with  six  hundred  and  twenty  chosen  men,  a  band 
as   gallant   and  well    ai.pointed,  as   eager   in    purpose  and 
audacious  in   h(.pe,  as   ever   trod   the   shores   of   the  New 
World.     The  clangor  of  trumpets,  the  neighing   of  horses, 
the  fluttering  of  pennons,  the  glittering  of  helmet  and  lance, 
startled  the  ancient  forest  with  unwonted  greeting.     Amid 
this    pomp   of   chivnlry,  religion   was   not   forgotten.     The 
sacred  vessels  and  vestments  with  bread  and  wine  for  the 

»  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World.     Huguenots  in  Florida,  Ch.  I. 


(f 


A 


8  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1539 

Kmharist  Merc  carffully  lunviih-d ;  niul  I»t>  S.io  liiinsclf 
doclart'tl  that  the  eiiti'riirise  \\m  uii(K'rlak»'!i  fur  (Jml  uloiif, 
and  seemed  t<i  !•»!  the  oliject  «'f  His  esiieeial  rare.  These 
devout  marauders  cduhl  iu>l  :u'),deet  the  si'lritual  welfare 
of  the  Indians  whom  they  had  come  to  jihinder;  and 
besides  fetters  to  Mini,  and  Idoodhounds  to  liunt  them,  they 
hroujrht  jtriests  and  m>)nlvs  for  the  saving  of  their  souls. 

The  adventurers  traversed  great  iM)rtions  of  (Jeorgia, 
Alahama,  and  Mississipjii,  everywhere  inllicting  and  endur- 
ing misery,  hut  never  a|»i>roaehing  their  phantom  KI  Dorado. 
At  length,  in  the  third  year  of  their  journeying,  they  reached 
the  hanks  of  the  Mi>sissii>iii,  a  hundred  and  thirty-two  year.s 
before  its  second  «liscover)'  by  Manjuette.  One  of  their 
mimlter  describes  the  great  river  as  alm-ist  half  a  league 
wide,  deep,  rai)id,  and  constantly  rolling  tlown  trees  and 
driftwood  on  its  turbid  current. 

De  Soto,  says  one  of  those  who  accompanied  him,  was 
a  "  stern  man,  and  of  few  words."  J:ven  in  the  midst  of 
rever.ses,  his  will  had  been  law  to  his  foll«)wers,  and  he  had 
sustained  himself  through  the  depths  of  disap{K)intmeut 
with  the  energy  of  a  stubl)orn  pride.  But  his  hour  was 
come.  He  fell  into  deep  dejection,  followed  by  an  attack 
of  fever,  and  soon  after  .'led  miserably.  To  preserve  his 
body  from  the  Indians,  hh  followers  sank  it  at  midnight 
in  the  river,  and  the  sullen  wafers  of  the  Mississippi 
buried  his  ambition  and  his  hojies. 

De  Soto's  fate  proved  an  uisutticient  warning,  for  those 
were  still  found  who  begged  a  fre.sh  commissior  for  the 
conquest  of  Florida ;  but  the  Emperor  would  not  hear  them. 
A  more  pacific  enterx)ri.se  was  undertaken  by  Cancello,  a 
Dominican  monk,  who  with  several  brother  ecclesiastics 
undertook  to  convert  the  natives  to  the  true  faith,  but  was 


Hernando  dc  Soto 


miukml  u.  the  altempt.  Nine  years  later,  a  plan  was 
urined  for  ti.e  coL. nidation  of  Floricla.  and  Guido  de  las 
Hazares  saUe.l  to  explore  the  coasts,  and  find  a  spot  suitahle 
for  the  establislunent.  Aft^r  his  return,  a  s-iuadron,  com- 
manded hy  Angel  .le  Villafane.  and  freighted  with  supplies 
«Md  men,  put  to  sea  fron,  San  Juan  .I'l'lloa;  but  the  ele- 
ments were  a.lverse.  and  the  result  was  a  total  failure.  Nut 
a  Spaniard  had  yet  gaine.l  foothold  in  Florida. 

That  name,  as  the  Si^aniards  of  that  day  understood  it. 
comprehended  the  whole  county  extending  from  the  At- 
lantic on  the  east  to  the  longitude  of  Xew  Mexico  on  the 
w...st.  and  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and  the  River  of  Palms 
""iftirutely  northward  towards  the  in.lar  sea.     This  vast  ter- 
ritory was  clain.ed  by  Spain  in  right  of  the  discoveries  of 
C  ..Inmbus  the  grant  of  the  I'ope.  and  the  various  expeditions 
".ont.oned  above.     England  claimed  it  in  right  of  the  dis- 
|'-"»e.s  of  Cabot;  while  Fmnce  could  advance  no  better 
t.tle  than  nught  be  derived  from  the  voyage  of  Vera^zano 
ar.d  vague  traditions  of  earlier  visits  of  Breton  adventurers 

\\Uh  restless  jealousy  Spain  watched  the  domab  which 
.she  cou  d  not  occupy,  and  on  France  especially  she  kept  an 
eye  uf  deep  distn.st.  When,  in  1541.  Cartier  and  Roberval 
es.aye.l  to  plant  a  colony  in  the  part  of  ancient  Spanish 
Honda  now  called  Canada,  she  sent  spies  and  fitted  out  cam- 
vels  to  watch  that  abortive  enterprise.  Her  fears  proved 
just.  Canm'a,  indeed,  was  long  to  remain  a  solitude;  but. 
despite  the  Papal  boimty  gifting  Spain  with  exclusive  o;ner- 

•:?;      '"^^  '^™;^P'^«'-«'  I>-^«e  and  Heresy  at  length  took  root 
iJ  tlie  sultry  forests  of  modern  Florida. 


ter 


;,-,.gr-"-g' 


lO 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


[1562 


1 
I 


iji  I 


THE  HUCU'KNOTS  IN  FLOmDA.-TEAN  KIBAUT^ 

In  ih .  year  1.-02  a  cluua  of  black  and  doacUy  portent  was 
1  icke nin.    over   Tranee.     Surely    and    swiftly   she    gluled 
:;:!::;he  abyss  of  the  religious  wars.     None^-uldp^e 
the  future,  perhavs  r.me  dared  to  eonte„n.  ate  it:    he  udd 
,a..e  of  fanaticism  and  hate,  friend  grapphng  with  friend 
,.;.ther  with    brother,   father  with    son ;    altars    profaned 
hearthstones  made   desolate,  the  robes  of   Justice   herself 
hedrenched  with  munler.     In  the  gloom  without  lay  Spain, 
i,nmuient  and  terrible.     As  on  the  hill  by  the  held  of  Dreux 
her   veteran  bands  of   pikemen,  dark   masses  of   organized 
ferocity,  stood  biding  their  time   while   the   battle   surged 
b.dow,  and  then  swept  downward  to  the  slaughter,  -  so  did 
Spain   watch  and  wait   to   trample  and  crush  the  hope  of 

humanity.  ,       „  „„:i^,i 

In  these  days  of  fear,  a  second  Huguenot  colony  ^  sailed 
for  the  New  AVorld.  The  calm,  stern  man  who  represented 
and  led  the  Protestantism  of  France  felt  to  his  inmost 
heart  the  peril  of  the  time.  He  would  fain  biukl  up  a  city 
of  refu.^e  for  the  persecuted  sect.  Yet  Caspar  de  Coligny. 
too  high  in  power  and  rank  to  be  openly  assai  ed,  was 
forced  to  act  with  caution.  He  must  act.  too  in  the  name 
of   the   Crown,  and  in   virtue  of   his  office  of  Admiral  of 

1  Pioneers  of  Frtince  in  the  Now  WovU.     Ilusnonots  in  Floricb.  Ck  III. 
I  Vull^l  ha.l  cst.Mislu.a  in  10.5  u  «hoM-liv.a  lluguenut  colony  on 
the  Kio  Janeiro  iu  Brazil.  —  iii'- 


i!u 


1562]  The  Huguenots  in  Florida  11 

France.  A  nobleman  and  a  soldier,  —  fur  the  Admiral  of 
France  was  no  seaman, —  lie  shared  the  vlu<s  inu  habits 
of  his  class;  nor  is  there  reason  to  beli  ve  fiim  iv  hu'. e 
been  in  advance  of  his  time  in  a  knowlt  Itrc  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  successful  colonization.  His  sc  .OiuC  ^loniised 
a  military  colony,  not  a  free  commonwealth.  Tlie  Huguenot 
party  was  already  a  political  as  well  as  a  religious  party. 

America  was  still  a  land  of  wonder.  The  ancient  spell 
still  hung  unbroken  over  the  wild,  vast  world  of  mystery 
lieyond  tlie  sea,  —  a  land  of  romance,  adventure,  and 
gold. 

Fifty-eight  years  later  the  Puritans  landed  on  the  sands 
of  Massachusetts  Bay.  Tlie  illusion  was  gone,  —  the  ignis 
fatuus  of  adventure,  the  dream  of  wealth.  The  rugged 
wilderness  offered  only  a  stern  and  hard-won  independence. 
In  their  own  hearts,  and  not  in  the  promptings  of  a  great 
leader  or  the  patronage  of  an  equivocal  government,  their 
enterprise  found  its  birth  and  its  achievement.  They  were 
of  the  boldest  and  most  earnest  of  their  sect.  There  were 
such  amoiig  the  French  disciples  of  Calvin;  but  no  May- 
flower ever  sailed  from  a  port  of  France.  Coligny's  colonists 
were  of  a  different  stamp,  and  widely  different  was  their 
fate. 

An  excellent  seaman  and  stanch  Protestant,  Jean  Ribaut 
of  Dieppe,  commanded  the  expedition.  Under  him,  besides 
sailors,  were  a  band  of  veteran  soldiers,  and  a  few  young 
nobles.  Embarked  in  two  of  those  antiquated  craft  whose 
high  poops  and  tub-like  projx^rtions  are  preserved  in  the  old 
engravings  of  De  Bry,  they  sailed  from  Havre  on  the  eigh- 
teenth of  February,  1562,  They  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and 
on  the  thirtieth  of  April,  in  the  latitude  of  twenty-nine  and 
a  half  degrees,  saw  the  long,  low  line  where  tlie  wilderness 


iWiM|) 


s 


it 


•ii 


12  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1562 

of  waves  met  the  wilderness  of  woods.  It  was  the  coast  of 
Florida.  They  soon  descried  a  jutting  point,  which  they 
called  French  Cape,  perhaps  one  of  the  headlands  of  Matanzas 
Inlet.  They  turned  their  prows  northward,  coasting  the 
fringes  of  that  waste  of  verdure  which  rolled  in  shadowy 

undulation    far   to   the 
unknown  West. 

On  the  next  morn- 
ing, the  iirst  of  Ma}, 
they  found  tlieniselves 
oil'  the  month  of  a 
great  river.  Kiding  at 
anchor  on  a  suiuiy  sea, 
they  lowered  their 
boats,  crossed  the  bar 
that  obstructed  the  en- 
trance, and  lloated  on 
a  basm  of  deep  and 
sheltered  water, "  boyl- 
ing  and  roaring,"  says 
Eibaut,  "  through  the 
multitude  of  all  kind 
of  fish."  Indians  were 
running  along  the 
beach,  and  out  upon 
the  sand-bars,  beckon- 


Landing  of  Ribaut 


ing  them  to  land.  They  pushed  their  boats  ashore  and  disem- 
barked, —  sailors,  soldiers,  and  eager  young  nobles.  Corselet 
and  morion,  arquebusc  and  halberd,  flashed  in  the  sun  that 
flickered  through  ininimerable  leaves,  as,  kneeling  on  the 
gronnd,  they  gave  thanks  to  God,  who  had  guided  their  voyage 
to  an  issue  full  (»f  promise.     The  Indians,  seated  gi-avely  un- 


■5«»1  The  Huguenots  m  Florida  ,3 

der  tfe  neighbortog  ,,ees,  looked  o„  i„  M,,t  respect,  thinking 
tha Ley  worslupped  the  ,„n.  «  TI.ey  be  =H  naked  and  ot  a 
g«U,.  mature,  a,ightie,  and  a,  well  sha^n  aad  prop«,^„„ed 
-f  .<ly  a,  any  people  in  y  world ;  and  the  fore  parrot  the'r 
My  and  ar™e,  be  painted  with  p„tie  denij  worke,  o 

a  nl  r    f  hurope  eonld  not  amende  it."    With  their  s.p.aws 
nd  ..midn.,,.  th.,    presenily  drew  near,  and,  strewing  the 
w,th  lan,.l  ,,o„ghs,.,„t  down  a„,o„g  .he  K,.ncL 
llu,,s, tor,  were   n,,,,-!,  pleased  with  then,,  and  «i,«.ut 
Ka>e  the  eine  ,  whon,  he  oalls  ,he  ki„g,  a  p,be  of  bine  eloth 
w.nked  n,  yellow  with  the  regal  Henr-de-lis 

Hut  Itibaut  and  his  folh.we,^.  j,„t  e»..„|«l  from  the  doll 

;',"'""'   "-■,  Never  had   they  known  a  lai.r  Ma  X 
I  he  ,p,an,t  old  narrative  is  exnln-^nt  with  delight     The 
n.u,utl  a,r  the  w„r,„  sun,  woods  f,.s:,  with  young  verdn 
..eadows  bnght  with  flowe,s ;  the  pa„„,  the  cypress  the  pL 
.e  „,ag„„l,a;  the  gracing  ,l^r;  herons,  curlews   bittern  ' 
w..<.leoek,  and   unknown    water-fowl   that    waded    in      J 
Mtle  of  the  l«„ch  ;  ceda.  bearded  f„,„  crown  to  r„,    „    h 
"..ft  g,.ay  n,oss;  huge  oaks  smothering  in  the  folds  of  elr 
moo,  graK-vn,es;-sueh  were  theobjeeu  that  greeted  trm 
;'|  .l.e,r  roarings,  till   their  new-.,i.scove,«l   fan    t    ed 
.l^e  fa.rest,  fru.tfullest,  and  pleasantest  of  al  the  world 

st  .SJC"'"'  ""  '■"■" """ "'" "'  *'°^-  "  «  "-  "- 

Next  they  anchored  near   Fenmn.lina,  and   to  a  neigh- 

■7  T'/"'""" '■'•  '""  ''  ""■^■•»'  «-•«  *e  name  ,    tt 

•V    e.     .Slowly  n,„v,ng  northwar.1,  they  nan,e,l  each  river  or 

let  snpi^sed  to  W  a  river,  after  .so.ue  stream  „f  Krane    - 

'l.e   r.ure.  the  Charente,  the  .,a,.,n,e,  the  Girond       A. 


:'i 


••n 


i 


14  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [156a 

length,  opening  betwixt  flat  and  sandy  shores,  they  saw  a 
commodious  haven,  and  named  it  Tort  Koyal. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  May  they  crossed  the  bar  where 
the  war-ships  of  Dupont  crossed  three  hundred  years  later 
passed  Hilton  Head,  and  held  their  course  along  the  peaceful 
bosom  of  Broad  Kiver.  On  the  left  they  saw  a  stream 
which  they  named  Libourne,  probably  Skull  Creek;  on  the 
right,  a  wide  river,  inobably  the  IJeaufort. 

Preliminary   exploration,  n<Jt  immediate   settlement,  had 
been  the  object  of  the  voyage;  but  all  was  still  rose-color 
in   the   eyes  of   the  voyagers,  and  many  of   their  number 
would  gladly  linger  in  the  New  Canaan.     Eibaut  was  more 
than  willing  to  humor  them.     He  mustered  his  company  on 
deck,  and  made  them   a  harangue.     He  appealed  to  their 
courage  and  their  patriotism,  told  them  how,  from  a  mean 
origin,  men  rise  by  enterprise  and  daring  to  fame  and  for- 
tune and  demanded  who  among  them  would  stay  behmd 
and  hold  Port  lU.val  for  the  King.     The  greater  part  came 
forward,  and  "with  such  a  good  will  and  joly  corage,"  writes 
the  commander.  "  as  we  had  much  to  do  to  stay  their  im- 
pt^rtunitie."    Thirty  were  chosen,  and  Albert  de  Pierria  was 
named  to  command  them. 

A  fort  was  begun  on  a  small  stream  called  the  Chenon- 
ceau.  probably  Archer's  Creek,  about  six  miles  from  the  site 
of  Beaufort.  They  named  it  Charlesfort.  in  honor  of  the 
unhappy  son  of  Catherine  de  Medicis.  Charles  the  Ninth, 
the  future  hero  of  St.  Bartholomew.  Ammunition  and  stores 
were  sent  on  shore,  and  on  the  eleventh  of  June,  with  his 
diminished  company,  Ribaut   again   embarked   and  spread 

hi.s  sails  for  France. 

From  the  beach  at  Hilton   Head,  Albert  and  his  com- 
panions might  watch  the  receding  sliips,  growing  less  and 


I 


liS 


'5631  The  Huguenots  in  Florida  15 

I0H.S  on  the  vast  expanse  of  Mue.  dwindling  to  faint  specks, 
then  vanishing  on  the  pale  verge  of  the  waters.  They  were 
alone  in  those  fearful  solitudes.  From  the  north  pole  to 
Mexico  there  was  no  Christian  denizen  but  they. 

[The  Fate  of  Albert  and  his  FoUowers.  -  The  plight  of  Albert 
and    us  men  after  liibaut's  departure  was  deplorable.     The 
ignoble  lust  for  gold  had  been  the  unheroic  motive  whic-h 
.a.l  prompted  them  to  ren.ain  behind      Hut  their  searches 
for  treasure  proved   futile,  and   internal  strife  and  famine 
•vnt  and  decimated  tlie  little   c.dony.     Albert's   harshness 
grow-  inlolerable  and  he  paid  the  penalty  with  death  at  the 
■ands  of  his  infuriate  followers.     Nicolas  Darr^  was  chosen 
to  su(;ceed  him,  and  a  sullen  peace  resulted. 

Still   the  exiles  yearned    for  the   land    beyond   the   sea. 
A\  .th  unskilled  hands  they  built  a  clun.sy  vessel,  and  with 
he  courage  of  despair  they  p..inted  her  prow  towards  France 
J-ierce  gales  bore  down  uixni  them,  and  with  sails  close-reefed 
they  tossed  about  at  the  mercy  of  the  waves.      Thirst  and 
anane  re.luced  their  numbers,  and  the  survivors  cast  lots 
f-r  a  hun.an  victim.     "The  hideous  repast  sustained  them" 
.^ays  I>arkn,an.i  "tdl  the  land  rose  in  sight,  when,  it  is  said, 
n.  a  de  uium  of  joy,  they  could  no  longer  steer  their  vessel, 
hwt  let  her  drift  at  the  wiU  of  the  tide.     A  small  English 
bark  iK.re  down  upon  them,  took  them  all  on  board,  and, 
after  landing  the  feeblest,  carried  the  rest  prisonei^  to  Queen 
KIizal)et]i."— Ed.] 

'  Piouecrs  of  France  in  the  Nc,v  World.    Ilugt.enots  in  Florida,  Ch.  III. 


i6  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


[«5S4 


\   i\ 


«   Si 


LAUDONNIErj:^ 

f)x   the   twentv-nflh   of    June.   1564.  a   French   squadron 
o,;clu,r.Hl  a  seonul  lin>e  u(r  the  u..ulh  of  the  U.ver  of  May 
There  were  three  vessels,  the  sn^aUest  of    sixty  tons,  the 
largest  uf  one  hundred  and  twenty,  all  crowded  wUh  Tuen 

i;en<3  de    Laudonnicre  held 
command.      He   was    of    a 
noble    race    of    Toitou,  at- 
tached tt)  the  house  of  Cha- 
till.m,    of     which     Coligny 
was    the  head;    pious,   we 
are  tohl,  an.l   an   excellent 
marine  otlicer.     An  engrav- 
ing,  purporting    to    be    his 
likeness,  shows  us  a  slender 
tigure,  leaning  against   the 
mast,  booted  to  the    thigh, 
with  slouched  hat  and 
phnne,  slashed  doublet,  and 
short  cloak.     His  thin  oval 


iiVdt  ('i'  hiiiiliiiiiiitir 


face,  with  curled  nu.ustache  and  close-trimmed  beard  wears 
a  somewhat  pensive  h>ok,  as  if  already  shadowed  by  the 
destiny  that  awaited  him.  . 

On  Thursdav.  the  twenty-second  of  June,  Laudomuere 
saw  the  low  Joast  line  of  Florida,  and  entered  the  harbor 
nf  St.  Augustine,  which  he  nan.ed  the  lUver  of  IKdphms, 

.  Pioneer,  of  Fn-noe  iu  the  New  NV...UI.     Huguenot,  in  Flo.i.h..  VU.  IV. 


^T  Laudonniere  ^7 

15641 

.-because  that  at  mine  arrival  I  saw  there  a  great  number 
,.f  Dolphins  whieh  were  playing  in  the  mouth  thereof. 
Then  he  bore  northward,  following  the  coast  till,  on  the 
twentv-tifth.  he  reached  the  mouth  of  the  St.  John'8  or 
river' ..f  Mav.  The  vessels  anchored,  the  boats  we  >  low- 
ered and  he  landed  with  his  principal  followers  on  the  n.th 
.hur'e.  near  the  present  village  of  Mayport.  It  was  the  ^e^y 
.pot  where  he  had  landed  with  lUbaut  two  years  before 

Man  and  nature  alike  seemed  to  mark  the  borders  of  the 
lUver  of  Mav  as  the  site  of  the  new  colony ;  for  here,  around 
the  Indian  towns,  the  harvests  of  maize,  beans,  and  pumpkins 
promised  abundant  food,  while  the  river  opened  a  ready  way 
to  the  mines  of  gold  and  silver  and  the  stores  of  barbaric 
wealth  which  glittered  before  the  dreaming  ^1Slon  of  the 
eolonists.     Yet,  the  better  to  satisfy  himself  and  his  men, 
l.audonnibre  weighed  anchor,  and  sailed  for  a  time  along  the 
„ei.diboring   coasts.     Eeturning.  confirmed  m  his  first  un- 
pre;ion.he  set  out  with  a  party  of  officers  and  soldiers  to 
explore  the  borders  of  the  chosen  stream.     The  day  was  hot 
The  sun  beat  fiercely  on  the  woollen  cai>sand  heavy  doublets 
of  the  men,  till  at  length  they  gained  the  shade  of  one  of 
those  deep  forests  of  pine  where  the  dead,h..  air  is  thick 
.-ith   resinous   odoi..  and   the  earth,  carpeted  with  fallen 
leaves,  gives  no  sound  beneath  the  foot.     Yet.  m  the  still- 
ness, deer  leaped   up  on  all   sides   as  they  moved  alonS- 
Then  they  emerged  into  sunlight.     A  meadow  was  before 
them    a  running  brook,  and  a  wall  of  encircling   forests. 
Tinmen  called'it  the  Vale  of  Laudomii.re.     The  afternoon 
.vas  spent,  and   the   sun  was  near  its   setting   wlven  they 
reached  the  bank  of  the  river.     They  strewed    he  ground 
with  boughs  and  leaves,  and.  stretched  on  that  sylvan  coucn. 

1 men. 


slept  the  sleep  of  travel-worn  and  weary 


H 


III 


I 


1 8  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1564 

They  were  roused  at  <l;ni'ivak  l>y  s.iiiiul  of  trumpel,  and 
after  sin>;iiif,'  a  psalm  iliev  svi  ilR-iiiselves  t.»  llieir  tusk, 
ll  wa.s  the  Imildin-,'  <«f  a  I'oit,  ami  the  spot  they  eh.Kse  was 
u  furlnii^  or  more  ab'.ve  Si.  .l.-hn's  IlhilV,  where  elose  to  the 
water  was  a  wi.le,  Hal  knoll,  raise.l  a  few  feet  above  the 
iimri^h  antl  the  river.  IJoats  came  np  the  stream  with 
laborers,  tents,  provisions,  eannon,  and  tools.  The  engi- 
neers marked  out  the  woik  in  the  form  of  a  triangle;  and, 
from  the  noble  volunteer  to  the  meanest  artisan,  all  lent  a 
hand  to  complete  it.  <»n  the  river  side  the  defences  were  a 
palisade  of  timber.  ( )n  the  two  other  sides  were  a  ditch,  and 
a  rampart  of  fascines,  earth,  and  sods.  At  each  angle  was 
a  bastion,  in  one  of  which  was  the  magazine.  AVithiu 
was  a  spacious  jiarade,  around  it  were  various  buildings  for 
lodging  and  storage,  and  a  large  house  with  covered  galleries 
was  built  on  the  side  towards  the  river  for  Laudonuifere 
and  his  olhcers.  In  honor  of  Charles  the  Ninth  the  fort 
was  named  Fort  Caroline. 

[Outline  of  Subsequent  Events.  —  "NVliile  intrigue  and  bad 
faith  on  the  part  of  the  French  were  arousing  the  suspicious 
enmit}-  of  the  Indian  tribes,  whf)  alone  could  provide  them 
against  starvation,  within  the  fort  cliciues  and  parties,  con- 
spiracy and  sedition  were  fast  stirring  into  life.  Officers 
and  men  chafed  at  the  restraint  which  Laudonuifere  imposed 
ui)on  them.  Stories  of  fabulous  wealth  in  the  Appalachian 
mountains  lured  their  fancies  upon  an  adventurous  quest, 
but  far  from  realizing  these  dreams,  they  found  themselves 
cnch)sed  within  a  petty  fort,  beside  a  hot  and  sickly  river, 
with  hard  labor,  and  possible  famine  their  ^.nly  prospect. 
Luudonni6re'3  life  was  in  daily  peril,  and  of  liis  officers  but 
four  remained  faithful  to  him. 


-ZSub 


1565I  Laudonniere  19 

'I'lio  inal  tiiitents  ha<l  fonmilated  plans  fur  piracy  upon  tho 
lii<rli  Hi-as  and  along  ihe  .slimi's  of  the  West  Imlies.  They 
extorted  u  eonuiiission  from  Laudonnifire  ostensibly  for  a 
cruise,  and  appropriated  to  this  end  two  small  vessels  that 
were  still  on  the  stocks.  In  a  fortnij^ht  they  were  ready  for 
sea,  armed  and  provided  with  the  king's  cannon,  munitions, 
and  stores.  Trenchant,  an  excellent  jidot,  was  forced  to  join 
them.  On  the  eighth  of  December,  1564,  they  set  sail,  and  ou 
the  twenty-Hfth  of  the  following  ^larch  the  discomfited  rem- 
nant sailed  back  in  a  captured  Spanish  brigantine,  starving, 
downcast,  and  anxious  to  sue  for  pardon.  A  court-martial 
was  called,  and  all  were  found  guilty.  Four  o.  the  ring- 
leaders were  condemned  to  be  hanged,  but  the  sentence  was 
comnmted  to  shooting.  "A  file  of  men,  a  rattluig  volley, 
and  the  debt  of  justice  was  paid.'  The  bodies  were  hanged 
on  gibbets,  at  the  river's  mouth,  and  order  reigned  at  Fort 
Caroline."  — Ed.] 

1  riouecrs  of  France  in  the  New  World,     Huguenots  iu  Florida,  Ch.  V. 


20 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1565 


THK    KAMIXK   AT    FORT   (:AHOUNK» 


i  i 


M 


Mav-i»av  faiiif,  ilie  thinl  anniversary  of  the  day  when 
JJihaut  ai\<l  liis  coinpauions,  full  of  dolijfhtetl  anticiiHition, 
had  first  explored  the  llowery  borders  of  the  St.  John's. 
Tlie  contrast  was  deploralde;  for  within  the  jn-ecinct  of 
Fort  Caroline  a  homesick,  S(iuali<l  band,  dejected  and  worn, 
draiTired  their  shrunken  limbs  al'^"t  the  sun-scorched  area, 
or  lay  stretchetl  in  listless  \vrt!':'i  .ess  under  the  shade  of 
the  barracks.  .Some  were  di^f^ing  roots  in  the  forest,  or 
gathering  a  kind  of  sorrel  upon  the  meadows.  If  they  had 
ha<l  any  skill  in  hunting  and  fishing,  the  river  and  the 
woods  would  have  sui)i)lied  their  needs ;  but  in  this  point, 
as  in  otliers,  they  were  lamentably  unfit  for  the  work  they 
had  taken  in  •:  nd.  "  <  )ur  miserie,"  says  Laudounifere,  "  was 
so  great  that  one  was  found  that  gathered  up  all  the  fish- 
bones that  he  could  tinde,  which  he  dried  and  beate  into 
powder  to  make  bread  thereof.  The  efTects  of  this  hideous 
famine  appeared  iu(!ontinently  among  us,  for  our  bones  eft- 
soones  beganne  to  cleave  so  neere  unto  the  skinne,  that  the 
most  i)art  vi  the  souldiers  had  their  skinnes  pierced  thorow 
with  them  in  many  partes  of  their  bodies."  Yet,  giddy  with 
weakness,  they  dragged  themselves  in  turn  to  the  top  of  St. 
John's  Bluff,  straining  their  eyes  across  the  sea  to  descry 
the  anxiously  expected  sail. 


1  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  Now  World.     Hufruenots  in  Florid.i,  Ch   VI, 


'565I  The  FamiFie  at  Fort  Caroline  21 

Had  ('<»lij,'ny  left  them  to  TKTish  ?  or  had  some  new  tem- 

IH'st  of  t-alaniity,  let  loose  upon  Kranee,  drowned  ilie  memory 

of  their  exile  ?     In  vain  the  watchman  on  the  hill  surveyed 

the  solitude  of  waters.     A  deep  dejection  fell   ujkjh  them, 

—  a     dejection 

that  would  have 

sunk  to  des[)air 

riiuld  tlieir  eyes 

have  jtierced  the 

future. 
On  the  third 

of  August,  T^iu- 

donnifere,  jKjr- 

turbed  and  ojv 

p  r  e  s  s  c  d,  was 

walking  on  the 
hill,  when,  look- 
ing seaward,  he 
saw  a  sight 
Uiatsentatluill 
tlnough  his  ex- 
hausted frame. 
A  great  ship 
was  standing 
towards  the 
river's  mouth. 
Then  another  came  in  sight,  and  another,  and  another.  He 
despatched  a  messenger  with  the  tidings  to  the  fort  below. 
The  languid  forms  of  his  sick  and  despairing  men  rose  and 
danced  for  joy,  and  voices  shrill  with  weakness  joined  in 
wild  laughter  and  acclamation,  insomuch,  he  says,  « that 
one  would  have  thought  them  to  bee  out  of  their  wittes." 


22  'The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  hscs 

A    .Inula  s I    miii-l.-.l    with  llu-ir  j-y.     Win.  wnv  tl.o 

MianjiCMs  >.     Wciv  tln'.v  ih.-  fii.'M-ls  su  UvA  ''"'l"'"!  ''"'"  '"  ^'^"'  ' 
..r  were  lliev  Spaniai.ls,  llu-ir  .liva.le.l  i-iii'iuies  >     They  were 
neither.     Tlie  |..iein..si  shij.  was  a  stalely  one,  nf  seven  him- 
.liiMl  tuns,  a  -leat   hin.len  at  that  -lay.     She  was  na.ne.l  the 
".U-sus;"  an.l  with   her  were  three  smaller  vessels,  the  Sol..- 
jnnn,  the  Ti-^.-r,  an.l  tiu-  Swallow.     Their  euuunan.ler  was  -  a 
ri-ht  worshiiiful    an.l  valiant   kni-hl,"  —  for  s..  the  re.-..r.l 
styles  him,  — a  i-ious  man  an.l  a  i-rudent,  tn  ju-l^^e  him  hy  the 
orders  he  },'ave  his  erew  when,  ten  m..nths  hel'..re,  he  saile.l 
.mt  ..I'  I'lym..iilh  :  "  Serve  (i...l  .laily,  love  one  aiioth-r,  i-re- 
serve  your    vietuals,   heware  ..f  tire,  and    keei^i-  «o.mI  cni- 
panie."     Nor  were  the  crew  unw..rthy  the  },naees  ..f  their 
chief;  for  tlu'  .levout  .hn.nicler  of  the  voya<,n'  ascrihes  their 
deliverance  from  the  perils  .f  the  sea  to  «  the  AImi«,'htie  (Jo.l, 
who  never  sutlerelh  his  Kle.'t  t"  perish." 

Wh.i  then  were  they,  this  chosen  band,  serenely  conscious 
of  a  special  I'rovi.lential  care?  They  were  the  pit.neers  of 
that  detested  tratllc  destined  to  in.iculate  with  its  infection 
nations  yet  unborn,  the  parent  of  discord  and  death,  tilling 
half  a  continent  with  the  tramp  of  armies  and  the  clash  .)f 
fratricidal  swords.  Their  chief  was  Sir  John  Hawkins,  father 
of  the  English  slave-trade. 

He  ha.l  been  to  the  c.)ast  of  Guinea,  where  he  boujjht 
and  ki.lnappe.l  a  car«,'o  of  slaves.  These  he  had  sold  t.)  the 
ieah)us  Spaniards  of  Hispaniola,  f.trcinj,'  them,  witli  sword, 
matchlock,  and  culverin,  to  grant  hi'  free  trade,  and  then 
to  sign  testimonials  that  he  had  bon  ^  himself  as  became 
a  peaceful  merchant.  Prospering  greatly  by  this  summary 
ommerce,  but  distressed  by  the  want  <.f  water,  he  had  put 
int.)  tlie  liiver  of  May  to  ol)tain  a  supply. 

Amoni'  the  rugged  heroes  of  the  liritish  marine,  Sir  John 


I 


«5«5l  The  Famine  at  I*\)rt  Caroline  23 

.■^ItMMl  iti  llu;  I'nml  rank,  a'wi  aliinjr  with  l)iaki',  his  ifhilivi', 
is  I'xtollcil  a.s  "a  iiinii  hoitio  I'm-  thu  hunuur  of  Un-  Kii>;lisli 
iiaiiio.  .  .  .  N'eitlior  iliil  the  Wi'sl  uf  Kii<,'hiiul  yM  .sinh  an 
iniliaii  N'l'iitunian  pairo  as  wcri-  Uk'sl'  two  Ocean  ix't'n's, 
Hawkins  and  l)iakf.'  S«i  wriles  thu  oM  chMiiider,  I'ni- 
cha-s,  and  ail  Kn^'land 
was  (tl'  his  thii'.kinj^.  A 
liaiily  and  skilful  sea- 
man, a  hold  lij^iiter,  a 
loyal  friend  and  a  stern 
enemy,  <)verl)eaiiii}^ 
towanls  e([uals,  but  kind, 
in  his  hlulT  way,  to 
those  lieneath  him,  rude 
in  s  i>  e  e  e  h,  soniewiiut 
erafty  withal  and  avari- 
cious, ho  Iniffeted  his 
way  to  riches  and  fame, 
and  died  at  last  full  of 
years  and  honor.  As  Tor 
the  abject  humanity 
stowed  between  the  reek- 
ing decks  of  tlie  ship 
"  Jesus,"  they  were  merely  in  his  eyes  so  many  black  cattle 
tethered  for  the  market. 

Hawkins  came  up  the  river  in  a  jiiiinace,  and  landed  at 
Fort  Caroline,  acconi]>anied,  says  Laudonni5re,  "with  gen- 
tlemen honorably  apparelled,  yet  unarmed."  Between  the 
Huguenots  and  the  Enjrlish  Puritans  there  was  a  double 
lie  .)f  sympathy.  Both  hated  priests,  and  both  hated  Span- 
iards. Wakening  from  their  apathetic  misery,  the  starveling 
garrison  hailed  him  as  a  deliverer.     Yet  Hawkins  secretly 


Sir  John  Hawkins 


f 

I- 


I 

h 


I 


ili 


24  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

rejoiced  when  he  learned  their  purpose  to  abandon  Florida ; 
for  although,  not  to  tempt  his  cupidity,  they  hid  from  him 
the  secret  of  their  Appalachian  gold  mine,  he  coveted  for 
his  royal  mistress  the  possession  of  this  rich  domain.  He 
shook  his  head,  however,  when  he  saw  the  vessels  in  which 
they  pioposed  to  embark,  and  offered  them  all  a  free  passage 
to  France  in  his  own  ships.  This,  from  obvious  motives  of 
honor  and  prudence,  Laudonnifere  declined,  upon  which  Haw- 
kins offered  to  lend  or  sell  to  him  one  of  his  smaller  vessels. 
Laudonnifere  hesitated,  and  hereupon  arose  a  great  clamor. 
A  mob  of  soldiers  and  artisans  beset  his  chamljer,  threatening 
loudly  to  desert  him,  and  take  passage  with  Hawkins,  unless 
the  offer  were  accepted.  The  commandant  accordingly  re- 
solved to  buy  the  vessel.  The  generous  slaver,  whose  reputed 
avarice  nowhe-3  appears  in  the  transaction,  desired  him  to 
set  his  own  price ;  and,  in  place  of  money,  took  the  cannon 
of  the  fort,  with  other  articles  now  useless  to  their  late 
owners.  He  sent  them,  too,  a  gift  of  wine  and  biscuit,  and 
supplied  them  with  provisions  for  the  voyage,  receiving  in 
payment  Laudonnifere's  note ;  "  for  which,"  adds  the  latter, 
"  untill  this  present  I  am  indebted  to  him."  With  a  friendly 
leave-taking,  he  returned  to  his  ships  and  stood  out  to  sea, 
leaving  golden  opinions  among  the  grateful  inmates  of  Fort 
Caroline. 

Before  the  English  top-sails  had  sunk  beneath  the  hcrizon, 
the  colonists  bestirred  themselves  to  depart.  In  a  few  days 
their  preparations  were  made.  They  waited  only  for  a  fair 
wind.  It  was  long  in  coming,  and  meanwhile  their  troubled 
fortunes  assumed  a  new  phase. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  August,  the  two  captains  Vasseur 
and  Verdier  came  in  with  tidings  of  an  approacliing  squadron. 
Again  the  fort  was  wild  with  excitement.     Friends  or  foes. 


1565]  The  Famine  at  Fort  Caroline  25 

French  or  Spaniards,  succor  or  death  ;  —  betwixt  these  were 
their  hopes  and  fears  divided.  On  the  following  morning, 
they  saw  seven  barges  rowing  up  the  river,  bristling  with 
weapons  and  crowded  with  men  in  armor.  The  sentries  on 
the  bluff  challenged,  and  received  no  answer.  One  of  them 
fired  at  the  advancing  boats,  and  still  there  was  no  response. 
Laiidonnifere  was  almost  defenceless.  He  had  given  his 
heavier  cannon  to  Hawkins,  and  only  two  field-pieces  were 
left.  They  were  levelled  at  the  foremost  boats,  and  the  word 
to  fire  was  about  to  be  given,  when  a  voice  from  among  the 
strangers  called  out  that  they  were  French,  commanded  by 
Jean  Kibaut. 

At  the  eleventh  hour,  the  long  looked  for  succors  were 
come.  Kibaut  had  been  commissioned  to  sail  with  seven 
sliips  for  Florida.  A  disorderly  concourse  of  disbanded  sol- 
diers, mixed  with  artisans  and  their  families,  and  young  nobles 
weary  of  a  two  years'  jteace,  were  mustered  at  the  port  of 
Dieppe,  and  embarked,  to  the  number  of  three  hundred  men, 
bearing  with  them  all  things  thought  necessary  to  a  pros- 
perous colony. 

No  longer  in  dread  of  the  Spaniards,  the  colonists  saluted 
the  new-comers  with  the  cannon  by  which  a  moment  before 
the}'  had  hoped  to  blow  them  out  of  the  water.  Laudon- 
mhve  issued  from  his  strongliold  to  welcome  them,  and  re- 
galed them  with  what  cheer  he  could.  Kibaut  was  present, 
conspicuous  by  his  long  beard,  an  astonishment  to  the  In- 
dians ;  and  here,  too,  were  officers,  old  friends  of  Laudon- 
ni^re.  Why,  then,  had  they  approached  in  the  attitude 
of  enemies?  The  mystery  was  soon  explained;  for  they 
expressed  to  the  commandant  their  pleasure  at  finding  that 
the  cliai-ges  made  against  hi  in  had  proved  false.  He  begged 
to  know  more ;  on  which  Kibaut,  taking  him  aside,  told  him 


26  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [X565 

that  the  returnujg  ships  had  brought  home  letters  filled  with 
accusations  of  arrogance,  tyranny,  cruelty,  and  a  purpose  of 
establishing  an  independent  command.  _  accusations  which 
he  now  saw  to  be  unfounded,  but  which  had  been  the  occa- 
sion of  his  unusual  and  startling  precaution.     He  gave  him 
00.  a  letter  from  Admiral  Coligny.     In  brief  but  courteous' 
terms,  ,t  requne.l  him  to  resign  his  command.  an.I  requested 
h.s  return  to  France  to  clear  liis  name  from  the  imputati..ns 
cast   upon  it     IJibaut  warmly  urged  him  to  remain;  but 
Laudonnifere  declined  his  friendly  proposals. 

Stores  were  landed,  tents  were  pitched,  women  and  children 

were  sent  on  shore,  feathered  Indians  nnngled  in  the  throng. 

and   he  borders  of  tlie  Eiver  of  May  swarmed  with  busy  life. 

But.  lo,  how  oftentimes  misfortune  doth  search  and  pursue 

"nhappj.  Laudoninfere.     Amidst  the  light  and  cheer  ofreno- 
ea'st  ""  '^'"'^  "^  ^^''^'"'  """'"  '""'  ^""'^'"'^'S  in  the 

At  half-past  eleven  on  the  night  of  Tuesday,  the  fourth  of 
September,  tlie  crew  of  Kibaut's  flag-ship,  anchored  on  the 
still  sea  outside  tlie  bar.  saw  a  huge  hulk,  grim  with  the 
throats  of  cannon,  drifting  towards  them  through  the  gloom  • 


I5651 


Menendez 


27 


MENENDEZ 1 

Spain  was  the  citadel  of  darkness,  —  a  inouastic    cell,  an 
inquisitorial  dungeon,  where  no  ray  could  pierce.     She  was 
the  bulwark  of  the  Church,  against  whose  adamantine  wall 
the  waves  of  innovation  beat  in   vain.    In  every  country 
of  Europe  the  party  of  free- 
dom and   reform  was  the 
national  party,  the  party  of 
reaction    and    absolutism 
was  the  Spanish  party,  lean- 
ing on  Cpain,  looking  to  her 
for  help.    Above  all,  it  was 
so  in  France  ;    and,  while 
within  her  bounds  there  was 
ftjr  a  time  some  semblance 
of  peace,  the  national  and 
religious  rage  burst  ^-^         m 
a  wilder  theatre.  r 

it  is   for   us   to  fo  '!■      ^t, 
where,    on    the    shores    of 

Florida,  the  Spaniard  and  the  Frenchman,  the  bigot  and 
the  Huguenot,  met  in  the  grapple  of  death. 

In  a  corridor  of  his  palace,  PhUip  the  Second  was  met  by 
a  man  who  had  long  stood  waiting  his  approach,  and  who 
with  proud  reverence  placed  a  i.etitioa  in  the  hand  of  the 

»  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  Worl.l.     IFuguenot,  in   Florida,  Cli.  VII. 


Pc<lro  Menendez  de  Avilts 


I! 


I 


28  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [,565 

pale  and  sombre  king.     The  petitioner  was  Pedro  Menendez 
de  AviKIs,  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  distinguished  otficers 
of  the  Spanish  marine.    He  was  born  of  an  ancient  Astu- 
rian  family.     His  boyhood  had  been  wayward,  ungovernable, 
aud  fierce.     He  ran  off  at  eiglit  years  of  age,  and  when,  after 
a  search  of  six  months,  he  was  found  and  brought  back,  he 
ran  off  again.     This  time  he  was  more  successful,  escaping 
on  board  a  fleet  bound  against  the  Ikrbaiy  corsairs,  where 
his  precocious  appetite  for  blood  and  blows  had  reasonable 
contentment.    A  few  years  later,  he  found  means  to  build 
a  small  vessel,  in  which  he  cruised  against  the  corsairs  and 
the  French,  aud,  though  still  hardly  nmre  than  a  boy,  dis- 
played  a  singular  address  and  daring.     The  wonders  of  the 
New  World  now  seized  his  imagination.     He  made  a  voyage 
thither,  and  the  ships  under  his  charge  came  back  freighted 
with  wealth.     The  war  with  Fiance  was  then  at  its  height. 
As  captain-general  of  the  fleet,  he  was  sent  with  troops  to 
Flanders;  and  to  their  prompt  arrival  was   due.  it  is  said 
the  victory  of  St.  Quentin.     Two  years  later,  he  commanded 
the  luckless  armada  which  bore  back  Philiu  to  his  native 
shore.     On  the  way,  the  king  narrowly  escaiied  drowning  in 
a  storm  off  the  port  of  Laredo.     This  mischance,  or  his  own 
violence  and  insubordination,  wrought  to  the  prejudice  of 
Menendez.     He  complained  that  his  services  were  ill  repaid. 
Philip  lent  him  a  favoring  ear,  and  despatclied  him  to  tlie 
Indies  as  general  of  the   fleet  and   army.     Here  he   found 
means  to  amass  vast  riches;  and,  in  If.Ol,  on  his  return  to 
Spam,  charges  were  brought  against  him  of  a  nature  which 
his  too  friendly  biographer  does  not  exi)lain.    The  Council  of 
the  Indies  arrested  him.     He  was  imprisoned  and  sentenced 
to  a  heavy  line ;  but,  gaining  his  release,  hastened  to  court 
to  thr..w  himself  on  the  royal  clemency.     His  petition  was 


»565] 


Menendez 


29 


most  graciously  received.     PhUip  restored  his  command,  but 
remitted  only  half  his  Hue,  a  strong  presumption  of  his  guUt. 
Menendez  kissed  the  royal  hand;  he  had  another  petition 
in  reserve.     His  son  had  been  wrecked  near  the  Bermudas, 
and  he  would  fain  go  thither  to  find  tidings  of  his  fate.     The 
pious  king  bade  him  tnist  in  God.  and  promised  that  he 
should  be  despatched  without  delay  to  the  Bermudas  and  to 
Honda,  with  a  commission  to  make  an  exact  survey  of  the 
neighboring  seas  f„r  the  profit  of  future  voyagors ;  but  Me- 
nendez was  not  content  with  such  an  errand.     He  knew,  he 
said,  nothing  of  greater  moment  to  his  Majesty  than  tlie  con- 
quest and  settlement  of  Florida.     The  climate  was  healthful 
the  soil  fertile;  an.l.  worldly  advantages  aside,  it  was  peopled 
by  a  race  sunk  in  the  thickest  shades  of  infidelity.     «  Such 
grief."  he  pursued.  «  seizes  me.  when  I  behold  this  multitude 
of  wretched  Indians,  that  I  shouM  choose  the  conc^uest  and 
settling  of  Florida  above  all  commands,  ottices,  an.l  dignities 
which  y..ur  Majesty  might  bestow."     Those  who  take  this 
for  hypocri.sy  do  not   know   the  Spaniard   of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

The  king  was  edified  by  his  zeal.  An  enterprise  of  such 
spiritual  and  temporal  promise  was  not  to  be  slighted,  and 
Menendez  was  emp,jwered  to  conquer  and  convert  Florida 
at  his  own  cost.  The  conciuest  was  to  be  effected  within 
three  years.  Menendez  was  to  take  with  him  five  hundred 
men,  and  supply  them  with  five  hundred  slaves,  besides  horses, 
cattle,  sheep,  and  hogs.  Villages  were  to  be  built,  with  forts 
to  defend  them ;  and  si.\teen  ecclesiastics,  of  wliom  four 
should  be  Jesuits,  were  to  form  the  nucleus  of  a  Floridai 
church.  Tlie  king,  on  his  part,  grante.l  Menendez  free  trade 
with  Hispau.ola,  Porto  Rico.  Cuba,  and  Spain,  the  office  of 
A  l.dantado  of  Florida  U  life,  with  the  right  of   naming 


30  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

his  successor,  and  large  emoluments  to  be  drawn  from  the 
expected  conquest. 

The  compact  struck,  Menendez  hastened  to  his  native 
Asturias  to  raise  money  among  his  relatives.  Scarcely  was 
he  gone,  when  tidings  reached  Madrid  that  Florida  was 
already  occupied  by  a  colony  of  French  Protestants,  and 
that  a  reinforcement,  under  Ifibaut,  was  on  the  point  of  sail- 
ing thither.  A  Frencli  historian  of  high  authority  declares 
that  these  advices  came  from  the  Catholic  party  at  the 
French  court,  in  whom  eveiy  instinct  of  patriotism  was  lost 
in  their  hatred  of  Coligny  and  the  Huguenots.  Of  this  there 
can  be  little  doubt,  though  information  also  came  about  tliis 
time  from  the  buccaneer  Frenchmen  captured  in  the  West 
Indies. 

Foreigners  hp.d  invaded  the  territory  of  Spain.  The  tres- 
passers, tiK),  were  heretics,  foes  of  (Jod,  and  liegemen  of  the 
Devd.  Their  doom  was  fixed.  But  how  would  France 
endure  an  assault,  in  time  of  peace,  on  subjects  who  had 
gone  forth  on  an  enterprise  sanctioned  by  the  Crown,  and 
undertaken  in  its  name  and  under  its  commission  ? 

Menendez  was  summoned  back  in  haste  to  the  Spani.sh 
court.  His  force  must  be  strengtliened.  Three  hundred  and 
ninety-four  men  were  added  at  the  royal  charge,  and  a  cor- 
resi)onding  number  of  transiK)rt  and  sui)ply  .ships.  It  was 
a  holy  war,  a  crusade,  and  as  .such  was  preaclu'd  by  priest 
and  monk  along  the  western  coasts  of  Spain.  All  the  IJis- 
cayan  ports  flamed  with  zeal,  and  adventurers  crowded  to 
enroll  themselves;  since  to  i)lunder  heretics  is  good  for  tlie 
«'.;ul  as  well  as  the  purse,  and  bix)il  and  massacre  have 
double  attraction  when  i)ronjoted  into  a  means  of  salva- 
tion. It  was  a  fervor,  deep  and  hot,  but  not  of  celestial 
kindling;  nor  yet  that  buoyant   and   inspiring  zeal  which, 


»s65l  Menendez  31 

when  the  Middle  Age  was  in  its  youth  and  prime,  glowed 
in  the  souls  of  Tancred,  Godfrey,  and  St.  Louis,  and  which, 
when  its  day  was  long  since  past,  could  still  find  its  home 
in  the  great  heart  of  Columbus.  A  darwer  spirit  urged 
the  new  cnisade,  —  born  not  of  hope,  but  of  fear,  slavish  in 
its  nature,  the  creature  and  the  tool  of  despotism ;  for  the 
tyi)ical  Spaniard  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  not  in  strict- 
ness a  fanatic,  he  was  bigotiy  incarnate. 

Heresy  was  a  plague-spot,  an  ulcer  to  be  eradicated  with 
fire  and  the  knife,  and  this  foul  abomination  was  infecting 
the  shores  which  the  Vicegerent   of  Christ   had  given   to 
the  King  of  Spain,  and  which  the  Most  Catholic  King  had 
given   to  tlie  Adelantado.     Thus  would  countless   heathen 
tribes  be  doomed  to  an  eternity  of  flame,  and  the  Prince  of 
Darkness  hold   his  ancient   sway   unbroken;   and   for  the 
Adelantado  himself,  the  vast  outlays,  the  vast  debts  of  his 
bold  Floridan  venture  would  be  all  in  vain,  and  his  fortunes 
be  wrecked   past  redemption  through  these  tools  of  Satan. 
As  a  Catholic,  as  a  Spaniard,  and  as  an  adventurer,   his 
couree  was  clear. 

The  work  assigned  him  was  prodigious.  He  was  invested 
witli  power  almost  absolute,  not  merely  over  the  peninsula 
which  now  retains  the  name  of  Florida,  but  over  all  North 
America,  from  I^brador  to  Mexico ;  for  this  was  the  Florida 
of  the  old  Spanish  geogiaphers,  and  the  Florida  designated 
in  tlie  commission  of  Menendez.  It  was  a  continent  which 
he  was  to  conijuer  and  occupy  out  of  his  own  jmrse.  The 
imijoverished  king  contrac.'ted  with  his  daring  and  ambitious 
subject  to  win  and  hold  fur  Iiim  the  territory  of  the  future 
United  States  and  IJritish  Provinces.  His  plan,  as  after- 
wards exposed  at  length  in  his  letters  to  Philip  the  Second, 
was,  first,  to  plant  a  garrison  at  Port   Koyal,  and  next  to 


32  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

fc.rtify  strongly  on  (•hesaj)eake  JJay,  called  hy  him  St.  Mary's. 
He  believed  that  adjoining  this  bay  was  an  arm  of  the  sea, 
running  northward  and  eastward,  and  communicating  with 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  thus  making  New  Jhigland,  with 
adjacent  districts,  an  island.     His  projKJsed  fort  on  the  Ches- 
ai)eake,  securing  access,  by  this  imaginary  jiassage,  to   the 
seas  of  Xewfoundland,  would  enable  the  Spaniards  to  com- 
mand the  fisheries,  im  which  both  the  French  ami  the  Eng- 
lisli  had  long  encroached,  to  the  great  prejudice  of  Spanish 
rights.     Doubtless,  to..,  these  inland  waters  gave  access  to 
the  South  Sea,  and  their  occupation  was  necessary  to  })re- 
vent  the  French  from  i.enetrating  thither;  for  that  ambitious 
l»eople,  .since  the  time  of  Cartier,  ha.l  never  abandoned  their 
schemes  of  seizing  this  portion  of  the  (h.minions  of  the  King 
of  Spain.     Five  hundred  sohliers  and  one  himdred  sailors 
must,  he  urges,  take  iw.ssession,  without  delay,  of  Port  Koyal 
and  the  Chesajicake. 

Prei.arati(jn  for  his  enterprise  was  pushed  with  furious 
energy.  His  whole  force,  when  the  several  s.piadrons  were 
united,  amonnteil  to  two  thousand  six  hundred  and  forty-six 
persons,  in  thirty-four  vessels,  one  of  which,  the  San  Pelayo, 
bearing  Menendez  himself,  was  of  nine  hundred  and  ninety- 
six  tons'  burden,  and  is  described  as  one  of  the  finest  ships 
aHoat.  There  were  twelve  Franciscans  and  eight  Jesuits, 
besides  other  ecclesiastics;  and  many  knights  of  Galicia.  Bis- 
cay, ami  tlie  Astiirias  took  part  in  the  e.xpedition.  With  a 
slight  exception,  the  whole  was  at  the  Adelantado's  charge. 
Within  the  fir.st  fourteen  months,  according  to  his  admirer, 
Barcia,  the  adventure  cost  Iiim  a  million  ducats. 

liefore  the  close  of  tlie  year,  Sancho  de  Arciniega  was 
commissioned  to  join  Menendez  with  an  additional  force  of 
fifteen  hundred  men. 


I5«5l 


Menendez 


33 


IJed-liot  with  a  (letfiniined  purix.se,  tlie  Adelantadowould 
brook  no  dela).  'J'(.  him,  says  the  clirouicler,  every  day 
seemed  a  year.  Ho  was  eager  to  anticijate  IJibaut,  of  wliose 
designs  an<l  whose  force  lie  seems  to  have  been  informed  to 
the  mitmtest  particular,  but  whom  he  hi.ped  to  tliwart  and 
ruin  by  gaining  Fort  Caroline  before  him.  With  eleven 
ships,  therefore,  he  sailed  from  Cadiz,  on  the  twenty-ninth 
of  June,  15G5,  leaving  the  smaller  vessels  of  his  fleet  to 
f.dlow  with  what  si.eed  they  might.  He  touched  Hrst  at 
the  Canaries,  and  on  the  eighth  of  July  left  them,  steering 
for  Dominica. 

At  length  the  sliips  lay  becalmed  in  the  liahama  Channel, 
slumbering  on  the  glassy  sea,  torpid  with  the  heats  oi  a 
West  Indian  August.  Menendez  called  a  council  of  the 
commanders.  There  was  doubt  and  indecision.  Perhaps 
L'ibaut  had  already  reached  the  French  fort,  and  then  to 
attack  the  united  force  would  be  an  act  of  desperation. 
Far  better  to  await  their  lagging  comrades,  liut  the  Adel- 
antado  was  of  another  mind;  and,  even  had  his  enemy 
arrived,  he  was  resolved  that  he  should  have  no  time  to 
fortify  himself. 

"  It  is  God's  will,"  he  said,  « that  our  victory  should  be 
due,  not  to  our  numbers,  but  to  His  all-poweiful  aid.  Tliere- 
fore  has  He  stricken  us  with  tem]X'sts,  and  scattered  our 
ships."    An«l  he  gave  his  voice  for  instant  advance. 

There  was  much  dispute  ;  even  the  chaplain  remonstrated  ; 
but  nothing  could  bend  the  iron  will  of  Menendez.  Nor 
was  a  sign  of  celestial  approval  wanting.  At  nine  in  the 
evening,  a  great  meteor  burst  forth  in  mid-heaven,  and, 
blazing  like  tiie  sun,  rolled  westward  towards  the  coast  of 
Florida.  The  fainting  spirits  of  the  crusadei-s  were  revived. 
Diligent  preparation  was  begun.     Prayers  and  masses  were 


■ 


i. 


34  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

.said;  an*!,  that  the  teiiii>ural  arm  niijflit  imt  fail,  the  nu'ii 
were  daily  i-iactined  on  dock  in  sliooliiif;  at  marks,  iu  order, 
wiys  the  chninicle,  tliat  the  recruits  might  Icaru  not  to  be 
afmid  of  tlieir  guns. 

The  dead  calm  continuetl.  "  We  were  all  very  tired," 
.siys  the  cliaplain,  "and  1  al>i)ve  all,  with  praying  to  (Jot! 
for  a  fair  wind.  To-«lay,  at  al)out  two  in  the  afternoon,  lie 
took  ]iity  on  us,  and  sent  us  a  breeze."  Jlefore  night  they 
saw  laiiil,  —  the  faint  line  of  forest,  traced  along  the  watery 
horizon,  that  marked  the  coast  of  Florida.  IJut  where,  in  all 
this  vast  monottmy,  was  tlio  lurkhig-iilace  of  the  French  \ 
Menendez  ancthored,  and  sent  a  captain  with  twenty  men 
ashore,  who  presently  found  a  band  of  liulians,  and  gained 
from  them  the  needed  information.  He  st<iod  northward, 
till,  on  the  afternoon  of  Tuesday,  the  fourth  of  September, 
he  descried  four  ships  anchored  near  the  mouth  of  a  river. 
It  was  the  river  St.  John's,  and  the  ships  were  four  of 
IJibaut's  sipiailron.  The  prey  was  in  sight.  The  Spaniards 
prepared  for  battle,  and  bore  down  w\mw  the  Lutherans;  for, 
with  them,  all  Protestants  alike  were  branded  with  the 
name  of  the  arch-heretic.  Slowly,  before  the  faint  breeze, 
the  .ships  glided  on  their  way ;  but  while,  excited  and  impa- 
tient, the  tierce  citws  watched  the  decreasing  space,  and 
when  they  were  still  three  leagues  from  their  j)rize,  the  air 
ceased  to  stir,  the  sails  Hap|»ed  against  the  mast,  a  black 
cloud  with  thunder  rose  above  the  coast,  and  the  warm  rain 
of  the  S(^uth  descended  on  the  breatliless  sea.  It  was  dark 
before  the  wind  stirred  again  and  the  ships  resumed  their 
course.  At  half-past  eleven  they  readied  the  French.  The 
San  Pelayo  slowly  moved  to  windward  of  Kibaut's  flag-ship, 
the  Trinity,  and  anchored  very  near  lier.  The  other  shijis 
took  similar  stations,     ^\^^ile  these  preparations  were  mak- 


i36sl  Mencndez  35 

iiig,  a  work  of  two  hours,  the  men  labored  in  silence,  and 
the  French,  throngiiij?  their  gangways,  lt»oked  on  in  equal 
silence.  "Never,  since  I  came  into  the  world,"  writes  the 
chaplain,  "<iid  1  know  such  a  stillness." 

It  was  broken  at  length  by  a  trumiHjt  from  the  deck  of 
the  San  Telayo.  A  French  trumiwt  answered.  Then  Me- 
neudez,  "with  nuich  courtesy,"  says  his  Siuinish  eulogist, 
in<[uired,  "  tientlemen,  whence  does  thus  tieet  come  ?" 

"  From  France,"  was  the  reply. 

•'  Wliat  are  you  doing  here  ? "  pursued  the  Adelantado. 

"  liringing  soldiers  and  su])plies  for  a  fort  which  the  King 
of  France  has  m  this  country,  and  for  many  others  which 
he  soon  will  have." 

"  Are  you  Catholics  or  Lutherans  ? " 

Many  voices  cried  out  together,  «  Lutherans,  of  the  new 
religion."  Then,  in  their  turn,  they  demanded  who  Me- 
uendez  w.  ,  and  whence  he  came. 

He  answered:  "I  am  Tedro  Menendez,  General  of  the 
fleet  of  the  King  of  Si^iin,  Don  Philip  the  Second,  who 
have  come  to  this  country  to  hang  and  behead  all  Lutherans 
whom  I  shall  find  by  land  or  sea,  according  to  instructions 
from  my  king,  so  precise  that  I  have  power  to  pardon  none ; 
and  these  commands  I  shall  fulfil,  as  you  will  see.  At  day- 
break I  shall  board  your  ships,  and  if  I  find  there  any 
Catholic,  he  shall  be  well  treated ;  but  every  heretic  shall 

die." 

The   French  with  one  voice  raised  a  cry  of  wrath  and 

defiance. 

« If  you  are  a  brave  man,  don't  wait  till  day.     Come  on 

now,  and  see  what  you  will  get ! " 

And  ,  hev  assailed  the  Adelantado  with  a  shower  of  scoffs 
and  insuiis. 


if 


lif  i 


36 


The  Struggle  for  a  i  ontiticnt  [1585 


Mi'nisniK'z  bmke  into  a  rajje,  and  ^nvi;  Hr.  (ji.lor  to  bounl. 
The  lut'U  8lii.i)i'<l  the  cables,  uiid  ihu  sullen  bluck  hulk  of 
the  San  Teliiyo  drifted  down  u|h)u  the  Trinity.  TIio  French 
did  not  make  gocwl  their  deHanee.  Indeed,  iu  y  wire  incajt- 
ablc  of  resi.stan'e,  Ifibaut  with  his  scddiers  i.  in;,  ashore  at 
Fort  Carolin".  They  cut  tlieir  cables,  Je;t  ihci-  anchors, 
made  sail,  and  lied.  The  .S|>aniards  fir.  1  tt  '  lunch  re- 
l>lied.  The  other  Sjianish  shi|.rt  had  iniiio;.  .i  li.'^  inosemeiit 
of  the  San  I'elayo;  "but,"  writes  the  di:  |.lai  .dendoza, 
"the.se  devils  are  such  adroit  .sailors,  anii  niaiunjM.-d  .so 
well,  tl;atwe  did  not  catch  one  of  them."  i'ur:-ii.  fn  and  air- 
sued  ran  out  to  .sea,  Hrinj^  useless  volleys  at  each  other. 

In  tlie  laorninjv  Menendez  j,mve  over  ihe  chase,  turn  ii, 
and,  with  the  San  IVlayo  alone,  ran  back  for  the  St.  Jolm's. 
l)Ut  here  a  welcome  was  pre[»ared  for  him.  He  saw  bands 
of  armed  men  drawn  up  on  the  beadi,  and  the  smaller 
vessels  of  Uibaut's  s(|uadron.  wliidi  had  crossed  the  bar 
several  days  before,  anchored  l^ehind  it  to  opintse  his  land- 
iug.  He  would  iKit  venture  an  attack,  but,  steering  south- 
ward, .sailed  alon^  the  coast  till  he  came  to  an  inlet  which 
he  named  San  Ajrustin,  the  same  which  I^udonnifere  had 
named  the  Iciser  of  I)<ilphins. 

Here  he  found  liiree  of  i.is  ships  already  debarking  their 
troojhs,  guns,  and  stores.  Two  oflicei-s,  Tatino  and  Vicente, 
had  taken  pos.se.ssioii  ..f  (he  dv.elling  of  the  Indian  chief 
Seloy,  a  huge  b».'n-like  structure,  strongly  framed  of  iitire 
trunks  of  trees,  and  thatched  with  fialmetto  leaves.  Amund 
it  they  were  throwing  up  intrencliinents  of  fascines  and 
sand,  and  gangs  of  negroes  were  toiling  at  the  work.  Such 
was  the  liiilli  of  St.  Augustine,  the  oldest  town  of  the 
United  States. 
On  the  eighth,  Menendez  took  formal  possession  of  his 


tif'] 


M  enemies 


57 


f        -d 

if 

the 


(lonmiii.  ('aniioii  wore  til  i,  truiin.ciM  st'Uiuled,  an<i  baiim-iH 
itisplaycd,  a.s  he  himled  n  state  al  he  '  a  .  of  Ims  Ciliceid 
ami  nobles.  Meiuloza,  (.rucifix  iri  hani.  nue  to  iiiflet  hiiu, 
I  tiautiiif;  T'  Ikuiit  laudainus,  \^^.ie  the  Auelautado  ami 
uU  his  '■  mimn),  kni'elui._;,  ki.'^s,  1  the  .  rut'iiu.,  and  tli 
assemb    il    hidiaus  gi.   li    in  silent   ■•  ■  tulv 

Meauv  iiiiti  the  teiants  <  Fort  oliiu  -vfri-  m-  i#e. 
Two  or  thivt>  soldiers,  si  . till!  ^  ulou.;  i.  bt-.  i.  he  uftpr- 
ii'M'TiJi  li  Hrst .«(     1  the  S]i:i'ii.x'   Mhii«,  i'  I  h-^  -uai      ued 

ikibiiut.     Ho  canu' .   iwn       tli'     noiith  >     t^o 
i  \  an  anxious  and  *  xciled  ■   ov        Imt   «<  tl.t?} 
eyes  thiouffh  the  da  \ii  luli  notl 

flashes  of  the  distan     mu.        v    ,,.ngtl  \v\ 

.sh.wed.fai  out  at  scii  n.-Ad  ui  doi  i  chase  of  thcii  Hy- 
ing onuiid'  -.  'ursuLi.-^  and  .ur>ue(!  f>  soon  out  of  sight. 
Tlu  drums  beat  arms,  .vftei  m  \y  iumrs  of  susiiense, 
the  San  I'elayo  rt  piteaiv  !,  iioverinp  out  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  then  bearin-  awa}  wards  tl  outh.  More  anxious 
hours  euMi.  d,  wli -n  hwv  oiho'  sji  .  .le  i  i  sight,  and  they 
recognizer  three  of  tiieir  own  r  turtimg  sh  .  Communica- 
tion was  .penal  a  boat's  cn-w  nded,  a  id  they  learned 
fi  Coik  itf--  '  ne  of  uie  FnncI  captains,  that,  confiding 
in  i.e  s}ie>  i  lus  shi]  ^e  had  dlowed  the  Spaniards  to 
S'  Auj^u  ,  re.  atuoii  I  their  position,  and  seen  them 
l-'n  i  theii       <tii»ps  ,   iil  iuticnch  themselves. 

Laudonni'   '■  :  luk   in      ,'d    in    his   chamber   at   Fort 

C::    line  whtii    \.    -aut  eutei  with   him   La  Grange, 

Sa  'e  Marie,  <*  iigr.y,  Yonvh  and  other  officers.  At  the 
bed;-  le  of  tl;^  displaced  commandant,  they  held  their  coun- 
cil 01  war.  iiiee  plans  were  proposed:  fii-st,  to  remain 
where  th.  y  v  *  «  and  fortify  themselves  ;  next,  to  push  over- 
la       for  ^      Augustine  and  attack  the  invaders  in  theii- 


t '  f 


38  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

intrenLhinonts ;  and,  tinally,  to  ejiiltaik  aiul  assail  them  by 
sea.  The  tirst  plan  would  leave  their  ships  a  prey  to  the 
Spaniartls;  aud  so,  too,  in  all  likelihood,  would  tlie  second, 
besides  the  uucerlainties  of  an  overland  march  tlirough  an 
unknown  wilderness.  l>y  sea,  the  distance  was  sliort  and 
tlie  route  explored.  \\y  a  sudden  blow  they  could  captme 
or  destroy  the  Spanish  ships,  anil  nmster  the  troops  on  shore 
beft)re  reinforcements  could  arrive,  and  before  they  liad  time 
to  coni]>lete  their  defences.  Such  were  the  views  of  Kibaut, 
and  these  jirevailed. 

On  the  tenth,  the  ship.s,  crowded  with  troops,  set  sail. 
Iiibaut  was  gone,  and  svith  him  the  bone  and  sinew  of  the 
colon}-.  The  miserable  remnant  waldied  his  receding  sails 
with  dreary  foreboding,  —  a  forelxHlhig  which  seemed  but  too 
just,  when,  on  the  next  day,  a  storm,  more  violent  than  the 
Indians  liad  ever  known,  liowled  through  the  forest  and 
lashetl  the  ocean  into  fury.  Most  forlorn  was  the  ]>iight  of 
tliese  exiles,  left,  it  miglit  be,  the  prey  of  a  band  of  ferocious 
bigots  more  terrible  than  the  fiercest  hordes  of  the  wilder- 
ness; antl  wlien  niglit  closed  on  tlie  stormy  river  and  the 
gloomy  waste  of  ]»ines,  what  dreams  of  terror  may  not  have 
haunted  the  helpless  women  who  crouched  under  the  hovels 
of  Fort  Caroline ! 

The  fort  was  in  a  niinous  state,  with  the  palisade  on  the 
water  sido  broken  down,  and  three  breaches  in  the  rampart. 
In  the  driving  rain,  urged  by  the  sick  LnudonniJire,  the 
men,  bedrendied  and  disheartened,  labored  as  they  could  to 
strengthen  their  defences.  Their  muster-roll  shows  but  a 
beggarly  array. 

It  was  the  night  of  tlie  nineteenth  of  Septemlier,  the  season 
of  tempests ;  floods  of  rain  drenched  the  sentries  on  the  ram- 
part, and,  as  day  dawned  on  the  drip})ing  barracks  and  deluged 


15^1 


Menendez 


39 


jlenct 


parade,  the  storm  increased  in  violence,  vviiat  enemy 
venture  cmt  on  such  a  night  ?  T-a  Vigne,  who  had  the  watch, 
took  pity  on  the  sentries  and  on  himself,  dismissed  them, 
and  went  to  his  (quarters.  He  little  '  lew  what  human 
energies,  urged  by  ambition,  avarice,  bigotry,  and  desi)eration, 
will  dare  and  do. 

To  return  to  the  Spaniards  at  St.  Augustine.  On  the 
morning  of  the  eleventh,  the  crew  of  one  of  their  smaller 
vessels,  lying  outside  the  bar,  with  Menendez  himself  on 
board,  saw  tlirough  the  twilight  of  eaily  dawn  two  of  llibaut's 
sliips  close  uiM»n  them.  Not  a  itreath  of  air  was  stirring. 
There  was  no  escape,  and  the  Sjianiards  fell  on  their  knees 
in  supplication  to  Our  liady  of  I'trer;  .'xplaining  to  her  tluit 
the  heretics  were  upm  them,  and  begging  her  to  send  them 
a  little  wind.  "Forthwith,"  says  Mendoza,"one  would  have 
said  that  Our  I^ady  herself  came  down  upon  the  vessel."  A 
wind  sprang  up,  and  the  Spaniards  found  refuge  behind  the 
bar.  The  returning  d.iy  showed  to  their  astonished  eyes  all 
the  ships  of  Ribaut,  their  decks  black  with  men,  hovering  off 
the  entrance  of  the  jwrt ;  but  Heaven  had  ihem  in  its  charge, 
and  again  they  exi)erienced  its  protecting  care.  The  breeze 
sent  by  Our  Ijidy  of  I'trera  rose  to  a  gale,  t  mi  to  a  furious 
temi)est ;  and  the  grateful  Adelantado  saw  through  rack  and 
mist  the  ships  of  his  enemy  tossed  wildly  among  the  raging 
waters  as  they  stniggled  to  gain  an  ofHng.  With  exultati<m 
in  his  heart,  the  skilful  seaman  read  their  danger,  and  saw 
them  in  his  mind's  eye  dashed  to  utter  wreck  among  the 
sand-bars  and  breakers  of  the  lee  shore. 

A  bold  thought  seized  him.  He  would  march  overland 
with  five  hundred  men,  and  attack  Fort  Caroline  while  its 
defenders  were  absent.  First  he  ordered  a  mass,  and  then 
he  called  a  council.     Doubtless  it  was  in  that  great  Indian 


If! 


40  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

lodge  of  Seloy,  where  he  had  made  his  lieadfjuarters ;  and 
here,  in  this  dim  and  smoky  abode,  nobles,  officers,  and  priests 
gathered  at  his  summons.  There  were  fears  and  doubts  and 
murraurings,  but  Menendez  was  desperate ;  not  witli  tlie  mad 
desi)eration  that  strikes  wildly  and  at  random,  but  the  still 
white  heat  that  melts  and  burns  and  seethes  with  a  steady, 
unquenchable  fierceness.  "Comrades,"  he  said,  "tlie  time 
has  come  to  show  our  courage  and  our  zeal.  This  is  God's 
war,  and  we  must  not  flinch.  It  is  a  war  with  Lutherans, 
and  we  must  wage  it  with  blood  and  tire." 

The  five  himdred  pushed  their  marcli,  now  toiling  across 
the  inundated  savannas,  waist-deep  in  bulrushes  and  mud ; 
now  filing  through  the  open  forest  to  the  moan  and  roar  of 
the  storm-racked  pines;  now  hacking  their  way  through 
palmetto  thickets  ;  and  now  turning  from  their  patli  to  shun 
some  pool,  quagmire,  cypress  swamp,  or  "  hummock,"  matted 
with  impenetrable  bushes,  brambles,  and  vines.  As  they 
bent  before  the  tempest,  the  water  trickling  from  tlie  rusty 
head-piece  crept  clammy  and  cold  betwixt  the  armor  and 
the  skin ;  and  when  they  made  their  wretched  bivouac,  their 
bed  was  the  spongy  soil,  and  the  exhaustless  clouds  their 
tent. 

The  night  of  Wednesday,  the  nineteenth,  found  their  van- 
guard in  a  deep  forest  of  pines,  less  than  a  mile  from  Fort 
Caroline,  and  near  the  low  hills  which  extended  in  its  rear, 
and  formed  a  continuation  of  St.  John's  Bluff.  All  around 
was  one  great  morass.  In  ])itt'hy  darkness,  knee-tleep  in 
weeds  and  water,  half  starved,  worn  with  toil  and  lack  of 
sleep,  drenched  tc  the  skin,  their  provisions  spoiled,  their 
ammunition  wet,  and  their  spmt  chilled  out  of  them,  they 
stood  in  shivering  groups,  cursing  the  enterprise  and  the 
author  of  it.     Menendoz  heard  Fernando  Perez,  an  ensign. 


1565I  Menendez  41 

say  aloud  to  his  comradi's :  "  This  Asturian  Corito,  who 
knows  no  more  of  war  on  sliore  than  an  ass,  has  betrayed  us 
all.  By  God,  if  my  advice  had  been  followed,  he  would  have 
had  his  deserts  the  day  he  set  out  on  this  cursed  journey ! " 

The  Adelantado  pretended  not  to  hear. 

Two  hours  before  dawn  he  called  his  officers  about  him. 
All  night,  he  said,  he  had  been  praying  to  God  and  the 
Virgin. 

"  Senores,  what  shall  we  resolve  on  ?  Our  ammunition 
and  provisions  are  gone.  Gur  case  is  desperate."  Ant'  he 
urged  a  bold  rush  on  the  fort. 

But  men  and  officers  alike  were  disheartened  and  dis- 
gusted. They  listened  coldly  and  sullenly ;  many  were  for 
returning  at  every  risk ;  none  were  in  the  mood  for  fight. 
Menendez  put  forth  all  his  eloquence,  till  at  length  the 
dashed  spirits  of  his  foUov.-ers  wp>^  so  far  revived  that  they 
consented  to  follow  him. 

All  fell  on  their  knoes  in  the  marsh  ;  then,  rising,  they 
formed  their  ranks  and  began  to  advance,  guided  by  a 
renegade  Frenchman,  whose  hands,  to  make  sure  of  him, 
were  tied  behind  his  back.  Groping  and  stumbling  in  the 
dark  among  trees,  roots,  and  underbrush,  buffeted  by  wind 
and  rain,  and  lashed  in  the  face  by  the  recoiling  boughs 
which  they  could  not  see,  they  soon  lost  their  way,  fell  into 
confusion,  and  came  to  a  stand,  in  a  mood  more  savagely 
desponding  than  before.  But  soon  a  glimmer  of  returning 
day  came  to  their  aid,  nr  '^owed  them  the  disky  sky,  and 
the  dark  colunnis  of  thf  •;  unding  pines.  Menendez  or- 
dered the  men  forwanl  •  pain  of  death.  They  obeyed, 
and  presently,  emerging  from  the  forest,  could  dimly  discern 
the  ridge  of  a  low  hill,  behintl  which,  the  Frenchman  told 
them,  was  the  fort.     Menendez,  with  a  few  officers  and  men, 


! 


I  lit 


ii 


42  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

cautiously  mounted  to  the  'op.  ikneatb  lav  Fort  Caroline, 
three  bow-shots  distant;  In'  tiie  rain,  the  injperfect  liglit, 
and  a  cluster  of  intervenin<T  houses  prevented  his  seeing 
clearly,  and  lie  sent  two  otlicei-s  to  reconnoitre.  As  they 
descended,  they  met  a  solitarv  Frenchman.  Thev  knocked 
liim  down  with  u  sheatlied  sword,  wounded  him,  took  liim 
prisoner,  kept  him  for  a  time,  and  then  stabl>ed  him  as  they 
returned  towards  the  top  »)f  the  hill.  Here,  clutching  their 
weapons,  all  the  gang  stood  in  fierce  expectancy. 

"Santiago!"  cried  Menendez.  "At  them!  (Jod  is  with 
us  !  Victory  !  "  And,  shouting  their  hoarse  war-cries,  the 
Spaniards  rushed  down  the  slope  like  starved  wolves. 

Not  a  sentry  was  on  the  rampart.  La  Vigne,  the  officer 
of  the  guard,  had  just  gone  to  his  quarters;  but  a  trumi)eter, 
who  chanced  to  remain,  saw,  through  sheets  of  rain,  the 
swarm  of  assailants  sweejiing  down  the  hill.  He  blew  the 
alarm,  and  at  the  summons  a  few  half-naked  s(ddiers  ran 
wildly  out  of  the  barracks.  It  was  too  late.  Through  the 
broaches  and  over  the  ramj.arts  the  Spaniards  came  pouring 
in,  with  shouts  of  "  Santiago !  Santiago  !  " 

Sick  men  leajied  from  their  beds.  Women  and  children, 
blind  witli  fright,  darted  shrieking  from  the  houses.  A 
fierce,  gaunt  visage,  the  tinust  of  a  pike,  or  Idow  of  a  ru.sty 
halberd,  —  su(  h  was  the  greeting  that  met  all  alike.  Lau- 
doniiir-re  snatched  liis  sworil  and  target,  and  ran  towards  the 
principal  breach,  calling  to  his  soldiers.  A  rush  of  Spaniards 
met  him  ;  his  men  were  cut  down  around  him;  and  he,  with 
a  soldier  named  Jlartholomew,  was  forced  !»ack  into  the  yard 
of  his  house.  Here  stood  a  tent,  and,  as  tlie  pursuers  stum- 
bled among  the  cords,  he  escaped  behind  Ottigny's  house, 
sprang  through  the  breach  in  the  western  ranqiart,  and  lied 
for  the  \\cH»ds. 


1565J  Menendez  43 

I^  Moyne  had  been  one  of  the  guanl.  Scarcely  liad  lie 
thrown  himself  int(j  a  hanunuck  which  was  slung  in  his 
room,  when  a  savage  shout,  and  a  wild  uproar  of  slnieks, 
outcries,  and  the  clash  of  weapons,  brought  him  to  his  feet. 
He  rushed  by  two  Spaniards  in  the  doorway,  ran  l>ehind  the 
guard-house,  leaped  througli  an  embrasure  into  the  ditch, 
and  es('ai)ed  to  tlie  forest. 

(.'halleux,  the  carpenter,  was  going  betimes  to  his  work,  a 
chisel  in  his  liand.     He  was  old,  but  pike  ami  i)artisan  bran- 
dished at  his  back  gave  wings  to  his  Hight.     In  the  ecstasy 
of   liis  terror,  he  leajied  upward,  clutched    the  top  of   the 
]>alisade,  and  threw  himself  over  with  the  agility  of  a  boy. 
He  ran  up  tlie  hill,  no  one  pursuing,  and,  as  he  neared  the 
edge  of  the  forest,  turned  and  looked  back.     From  the  high 
ground  where  he  stood,  he  could  see  the  butciiery,  the  fury 
of  the  con«iuerors,  and  the  agonizhig  gestures  of  the  victims. 
He  turned  again  in  horror,  and  jtlungcd  into  the  woods.     As 
he  tore  his  way  througli  the  briars   and   thickets,  he   met 
several   fugitives   escajied    like   himself.     Others    presently 
came  up,  haggard  and  wild,  like  men  broken  loose  from  the 
jaws  of  death.     They  gathered  together  and  consulted.     One 
of  them,  known  as  Master  IJobert,  in  great  repute  for    his 
knowledge  of   the   IJible,  was  for  returning  and  surrender- 
ing to  the  Spaniards.     "  They  are  men,"  he  said ;  "  jierhaps, 
when  their  fury  is  over,  they  will  spare  our  lives ;  and,  even 
if  they  kill  us,  it  will  oidy  be  a  few  moments'  pain.     Detter 
S(t,  than  to  starve  here  in  the  woods,  or  be  torn  to  pieces 
by  wild  beasts." 

The  greater  part  of  the  naked  and  despairing  comjiany 
assented,  but  Challeu.x  was  of  a  dillerent  mind.  The  old 
Huguenot  (pioted  Scrijtture,  and  called  (he  names  of 
prophets  and  aiH.siles  to  witness  that,  in  the  direst  extrem- 


I 


f 

I 


44  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (1565 

ity,  God  would  not  abandon  those  who  rested  their  faith  in 
lliui.  Six  of  the  fugitives,  however,  still  held  to  their 
des^ierate  purpose.  Issuing  from  the  woods,  tliey  descended 
towards  the  fort,  and,  as  with  beating  hearts  their  comrades 
watched  the  result,  a  troop  of  Spaniards  rushed  out,  liewed 
them  down  with  swords  and  halberds,  and  draj^ged  their 
bodies  to  the  brink  of  the  river,  where  the  victims  of  the 
massacre  were  aheady  thing  in  heaps. 

Le  Moyne,  with  a  scddier  named  (Smutichemin,  whom  he 
had  met  in  his  flight,  toiled  all  day  through  the  woods  and 
marshes,  in  the  hope  of  reaching  the  small  vessels  anchored 
behind  the  bar.  Niglit  found  them  in  a  morass.  No  vessel 
could  be  seen,  and  llie  .soldier,  in  despair,  broke  into  angry 
upbraidings  against  his  companion,  —  saying  that  he  would 
go  back  and  give  himself  up.  Le  Moyne  at  first  opposed 
him,  then  yiehled.  liut  when  they  drew  near  the  fort,  and 
heard  the  liproar  of  savage  revelrj*  that  rose  from  within,  the 
artist's  heart  failed  him.  He  end)raced  his  companion,  and 
the  soldier  advanced  alone.  A  party  of  Spaniards  came  out 
to  meet  him.  He  kneeled,  and  begged  for  his  life.  He  was 
answered  by  a  death-blow ;  and  the  horrified  Le  Moyne, 
from  his  hiding-place  in  the  thicket,  saw  his  limbs  hacked 
apart,  stuck  on  pikes,  and  borne  off  in  triumph. 

Meanwhile,  Menendez,  mustering  his  followers,  had  offered 
thanks  to  God  for  their  victory;  and  this  pious  butcher  wept 
with  emotion  as  he  recounted  the  favors  which  Heaven  had 
showered  ui)on  their  enterjtrise.  His  admiring  historian 
gives  it  in  proof  of  his  humanity,  that,  after  the  rage  of  the 
as.sault  was  spent,  he  ordered  that  women,  infants,  and  boys 
under  fifteen  .should  thenceforth  be  spared.  Of  these,  liy  nis 
own  account,  there  were  about  fifty.  "Writing  in  October  to 
the  king,  he  says  that  they  cause  him  great  anxiety,  since 


I 


1565I  Menendez  45 

he  fears  the  anger  of  God  should  he  now  put  them  to  death 
iu  cold  blood,  while,  on  the  other  hautl,  he  is  in  dread  lest 
the  venom  of  thair  heresy  sl'.ould  infect  his  men. 

A  hundred  and  forty-two  persons  were  slain  in  and  around 
the  fort,  and  their  bodies  lay  heaped  tt>gether  on  tlie  bank  of 
the  river.  Nearly  opposite  was  anchored  a  small  vessel, 
called  the  I'earl,  commanded  by  Jacques  Kibaut,  son  of  the 
admiral.  The  ferocious  soldiery,  maddened  with  victory 
and  drunk  with  blood,  crowded  to  the  water's  edge,  shouting 
insults  to  those  on  board,  mangling  the  corpses,  tearing  out 
their  eyes,  and  throwing  them  towards  tlie  vessel  from  the 
points  of  their  daggers.  Thus  did  the  Most  Catholic  Philip 
champion  the  cause  of  Heaven  in  the  New  World. 

It  was  currently  believed  in  France,  and,  though  no  eye- 
witness attests  it,  there  is  reason  to  think  it  true,  that 
among  those  murdered  at  Fort  Caroline  there  were  some  who 
died  a  death  of  peculiar  ignominy.  Menendez,  it  is  atHrmed, 
hanged  his  prisoners  on  trees,  and  placed  over  them  the 
inscription,  "  I  do  this,  not  as  to  Frenchmen,  Imt  as  to 
Lutherans." 


46 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 


i 


MA.S«ACUK   OF  TIIK  HEKKTICS* 

On-  tlie  twentVH'iglitli  of  September,  wlion  llie  wean- Adelan- 
tado  was  taking  his  siesta  uiuler  tlie  sylvan  io.»f  of  Seloy,  a 
troop  of  Indians  came  in  with  news  that  <iulckly  roused  him 
from  Jiis  shimhfjs.  They  had  seen  a  French  vessel  wrecked 
on  the  coast  towards  the  south.  Those  who  escaped  from 
her  ere  four  or  six  leagues  off,  on  the  banks  of  a  river  or 
arn:  of  the  sea,  which  they  could  not  cross. 

Menendez  instantly  sent  forty  or  Hfty  men  in  boats  to  re- 
connoitre. Next,  he  called  the  chaplain,  —  f(.r  he  would  fain 
have  him  at  his  elbow  to  countenance  the  deeds  he  medi- 
tated,—and,  with  him,  twelve  soldiers,  an<l  two  Indian 
guides,  embarked  in  another  boat.  They  rowed  along  the 
channel  between  Anastasia  Island  and  the  main  shore;  then 
they  landed,  struck  across  the  island  on  foot,  traversed  plains 
and  mai-shes,  reached  tlie  sea  towards  night,  and  seardied 
along  shore  till  ten  o'clock  to  find  their  comrades  who  had 
gone  before.  At  length,  with  mutual  j.)y,  the  two  parties 
met,  and  bi-v-ouacked  together  on  the  .sands.  Not  far  distant 
they  could  see  lights.  Tliese  were  the  camp-fires  of  the 
shipwrecked  French.'* 

When  the  Adelantado  saw  the  French  fires  in  the  distance, 
he  lay  close  in  bis  biv<.uac,  and  .sent  tw.  .soldiers  to  recon- 
noitre.    At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  they  came  back,  and 

»  rionpors  of  France  i„  tl.e  N.-w  Worl.l.     IlnguonoU  in  Flori.la.  Ch.  VIII 
The  wreck  of  Rihimt's  .■xpciiti...,  aiiainst  St.  Angiistin...  _  Ki). 


i5«3l  Massacre  of  the  Heretics  47 

reported  that  it  was  iini)ossible  to  get  at  the  eueniy,  siuoe 
they  were  ou  the  farther  side  of  an  arm  of  the  sea  (Matanzas 
lulet).  Meneudez,  however,  gave  orders  to  march,  and  be- 
fore daybreak  readied  the  hither  bank,  where  he  hid  his  men 
ill  a  biKsliy  hollow.  Thence,  as  it  grew  light,  they  could 
discern  the  enemy,  many  <jf  whom  were  searching  along  the 
sands  and  siudlows  for  shell-lish,  hn-  they  were  famishing. 
A  thought  struck  Menentlez,  an  insi>iiation,  says  Mendoza, 
of  the  ][oly  Spirit,  lie  put  on  the  clothes  of  a  sailor,  en- 
tered a  boat  which  had  been  bronght  to  the  s^wt,  and  rowed 
towards  tlie  shipwrecked  men,  the  better  to  learn  their  con- 
dition. A  Frenchman  swam  out  to  meet  him.  Menendez 
demanded  what  men  they  were. 

"  Followers  of  Kibaut,  Viceroy  of  the  King  of   France," 
answered  the  swinmier. 

"Are  you  Catholics  or  Lutherans  ?" 
"  All  Lutherans." 

A  brief  dialogue  ensued,  during  which  the  Adelantado  de- 
clared his  name  and  character,  and  the  Frenchman  gave  an 
account  of  the  designs  of  IJibaut,  and  of  the  disaster  that  had 
thwarted  them.     He  then  swam  l»ack  to  his  companions,  biit 
soon  returned,  and  asked  safe  conduct  for  his  captain  and 
four  other  gentlemen,  who  wished  to  hold  conference  with 
the   Spanish   generf;i.     Menendez  gave  his  word  for  their 
safety,  and,  returning  to  the  shore,  sent  his  boat  to  bring  them 
•ver.     On  their  landing,  he  met  them  verj-  courteously.    His 
;»llowers  were  kept  at  a  distance,  so  disposed  behind  hills 
and  among  bushes  as  to  give  an  exaggerated  idea  of  their 
force,  — a  precaution  the  more  needful,  as  they  were  only 
about  sixty  in  number,  while  the  French,  says  Soli's,  were 
above  two  hundred.     Mei-.^-ndez,  however,  declares  that  they 
did  not  exceed  a  hundred  and  forty.    The  French  oBicer  told 


;i 


48  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

him  tlie  ston-  of  their  shi|.wrack,  and  I'egged  him  to  lend 
them  a  boat  to  aid  them  in  cio.s.mu},'  the  rivers  wliich  lay  be- 
tween them  and  a  fort  of  th.iir  kjjjg,  whither  they  were 
making  their  way. 

Then  came  again  the  ominous  question,  — 

"  Are  you  Catholics  or  Lutlierans  ? " 

"  We  are  Lutherans." 

"  CJentlemen,"  pursue<l  Menendez,  "your  fort  is  taken, and 
all  in  it  are  put  to  the  swonl."  And,  in  proof  of  his  declara- 
tion, he  caused  articles  ].lunderp(l  from  Fort  Caroline  to  l.e 
shown  to  the  unliappy  |K?titioners.  He  then  left  tliem,  and 
went  to  breakfast  with  liis  ofHcers,  tirst  ordering  focnl  to 
be  placed  before  tliem.  Having  breakfasted,  he  returned  to 
them. 

"  Are  you  convinced  now,"  he  asked,  "  that  what  I  have 
told  you  is  true  ?  " 

The  French  captain  assented,  and  imi)lored  him  to  lend 
tliem  ships  in  which  to  return  home.  Menendez  answered, 
that  he  would  do  so  willingly  if  they  were  Catholics,  and  if 
he  had  sliips  to  sj.are,  but  lie  ha<l  none.  The  supplicants 
then  expressed  tlie  hope,  that  at  least  they  and  their  follow- 
ers would  be  allowed  to  remain  with  the  Spaniards  till  ships 
coidd  be  sent  to  their  relief,  since  tliere  was  j«jace  between 
the  two  nations,  whose  kings  were  friends  and  brothers. 

"All  Catholics,"  retorted  the  .Spaniard,  "I  will  befriend; 
but  as  you  are  of  tlie  New  Sect,  1  hold  you  as  enemies,  and 
wage  deadly  war  against  you ;  and  tliis  I  will  do  with  all 
cruelty  [cntelifad]  in  this  country,  where  I  command  as 
viceroy  and  captain-gemial  f-.r  my  king.  I  am  here  to 
l.lant  the  holy  gospel,  th.-i;  the  Indians  may  be  enlightened 
and  come  to  the  kii..wledg.-  of  tlie  Ibdy  Catholic  faith  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  tlie  1;  iiian  Church  teach  s  it.     If  you 


i5«5)  Massacre  of  the  Heretics  49 

will  jrive  up  your  arms  aii.l  liaimers,  and  place  yourselves  at 
uiy  nierty,  ) ou  may  do  so,  and  I  will  act  towards  you  as  God 
shall  iiWii  me  grace.  Do  as  y(.u  will,  for  other  than  this  you 
can  have  neither  truce  nor  fricndshii)  with  me." 

Such  were  the  Adelantado's  wonls,  as  reported  by  a  by- 
stander, his  admiring  brother-in-law ;  and  that  they  contain 
an  imjdied  assurance  of  mercy  has  been  held,  not  only  by 
Protestants,  but  by  Catholics  and  Spaniards,  The  reinnt  of 
Monendez  himself  is  more  brief,  and  sufficiently  equivocal 

"I  answered,  that  they  could  give  up  their  arms  and 
place  themselves  under  my  mercy,  —  that  I  should  do  with 
them  what  our  Lord  should  order ;  and  from  that  I  did  not 
depart,  nor  would  I,  unless  God  our  Lord  should  otherwise 
inspire." 

One  of  the  Frenchmen  recrossed  to  consult  with  his 
companions.  In  two  hours  he  returned,  and  offered  fifty 
thousand  ducats  to  secure  their  lives ;  but  Menendez,  says 
his  brother-in-law,  would  give  no  pledges.  On  the  other 
hand,  expressions  in  his  own  despatches  point  to  the  infer- 
ence that  a  virtual  pledge  was  given,  at  least  to  certain 
individuals. 

The  starving  French  saw  no  resource  but  to  yield  them- 
selves to  his  mercy.  The  boat  was  again  sent  across  the 
river.  It  returned  laden  with  banners,  arquebu>os,  swords, 
targets,  and  helmets.  The  Adelantado  ordered  twenty  sol- 
diers to  bring  over  the  prisoners,  ten  at  a  time.  He  then 
took  the  French  officers  aside  behind  a  ridge  of  sand,  two 
gunshots  from  the  bank.  Here,  with  courtesy  on  his  lips 
and  murder  at  his  heart,  he  said :  — 

"  (Jentlemen,  I  have  but  few  men,  and  you  are  so  many 
that,  if  you  were  free,  it  would  be  easy  for  you  to  take 
your  satisfaction  on  us  for  the  people  we  killed  when  we 


!i 


50  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [.563 

t«'«.k  your  fort.  Tht-ieforc  it  is  necessary  thai  y..u  shoulH  f- 
to  my  camp,  four  leagues  from  this  placi.with  youi  liaiu-s 
tied" 

Accordingly,  as  each  party  landed,  they  were  led  out  of 
sight  behind  the  sand-hill,  and  their  hands  tied  behind  their 
backs  with  the  match-cords  of  the  arquebuses,  though  not 
before  each  Juxd  been  supplied  with  food.     The  whole  day 
lassed  before  all  were  brought  together,  bound  and  helpless, 
under  the  eye  of  the  inexorable  Adelantado.     But  now  Men- 
doza  interposed.    "I  was  a  priest,"  he  says,  "and  had  the 
bowels  (»f  a  man."    He  asked  that,  if  there  were  Christians 
—  that   is   to  .say.  Catholics  —  among  the   prisoners,  they 
should  be  set  apart.    Twelve  BretoQ  sail)rs  professed  them- 
selves to  be  such;  and  these,  together  with  four  cari>enters 
and  calkers,  "  of  whom,"  writes  Menendez,  "  I  was  in  great 
need,"  were  put  on  board  the  boat  and  sent  to  81  Augustine. 
Tlio  rest  were  ordered  to  march  thither  by  land. 

The  Adelantado  walked  in  advance  till  he  came  to  a 
lonely  spot,  not  far  distant,  deep  among  the  bush-covered 
hills.  Here  he  stopped,  and  with  his  cane  drew  a  line  in 
the  sand.  The  sun  was  set  when  the  captive  Huguenots, 
with  their  escort,  reached  the  fatal  goal  thus  marked  out. 
And  now  let  the  curtain  drop;  for  here,  in  the  name  of 
Heaven,  the  hounds  of  hell  were  turned  loose,  and  the  sav- 
age soldiery,  like  wolves  in  a  sheepfold,  rioted  in  slaughter. 
Of  all  that  wretched  company,  not  one  was  left  alive. 

"  I  had  their  hands  tied  behind  their  backs,"  writes  the 
chief  criminal,  "and  themselves  put  to  the  knife.  It  ap- 
peared to  me  that,  by  thus  chastising  them,  God  our  Lord 
and  your  Majesty  were  served;  whereby  in  future  this 
evil  sect  will  leave  us  more  free  to  plant  the  gospel  in 
these  parts.' 


«565l 


MiLssacre  of  the  Heretics 


51 


Again  Meiieiulez  ri'turtn'd  triuiiiitlmnl  t»»  St.  AuKustine, 
aiul  behind  him  niaivhcd  his  Itanil  uf  butchen*,  slee{itHl  in 
bloiKl  to  the  elbows,  but  still  unsutcd.  (ireat  as  had  been 
his  success,  he  still  had  cause  for  anxiety.  There  was  ill 
news  of  his  Heet.  Some  of  the  shifw  w  ere  lost,  others  scat- 
tered, or  laj,'}:;ing  tardily  on  their  way.  '  -f  his  whole  force, 
less  than  a  half  had  reached  Florida,  and  of  these  a  large 
part  were  still  at  Fort  Caroline.  Kibaut  could  not  be  far 
off;  and, whatever  might  be  the  condition  of  his  shipwrecked 
company,  their  numlKTs  woultl  make  tliem  formidable,  unless 
taken  at  advantage.  Urgr  ]  by  fear  and  fortiiied  by  fanat- 
icism, Menendez  had  well  l)egun  his  work  of  slaughter ;  but 
rest  for  him  there  was  none  ;  a  darker  deed  was  Inland. 

()n  the  tenth  of  October,  Indians  came  with  the  tidings 
that,  at  the  spot  wliere  the  first  party  <>'  the  shipwrecked 
French  had  been  fcnid,  there  WaS  now  another  party  still 
larger.  This  murder-j  ving  race  looked  with  ,  .;  er  c<  < 
on  Menendez  for  his  whidesale  butchi  vy  of  the  >  ,';.,  i  re, 
—  an  exploit  rarely  equalled  in  their  own  ann:  r.'  n:M  1- 
sacre.  On  his  part,  he  doubted  not  that  llibaut  v  ..  i  ■  ai.ai 
Marching  with  a  hundred  and  fifty  men,  he  crossed  the 
bush-covered  sands  at  Anastasia  Island,  followed  the  strand 
between  the  thickets  and  the  sea,  reached  the  inlet  at  mid- 
night, and  again,  like  a  savage,  ambushed  himself  on  he 
bank.  Day  broke,  and  he  could  plainly  see  the  Freacii  on 
the  farther  side.  They  hat  I  made  a  raft,  which  lay  in  the 
water  ready  for  crossing.  Menendez  and  his  men  showed 
themselves,  when,  forthwith,  the  French  displayed  their 
banners,  sounded  drums  and  truni[)eta,  and  set  their  sick 
and  starving  ranks  in  array  of  battle.  But  the  Adelantado, 
regardle.s.s  of  this  warlike  show,  ordered  his  men  to  seat 
themselves  at  breakfast,  while  he  wuh  thre«  otlicers  walked 


iii 

I 


i 


52  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

uncneerncdly  along  the  shore.     His  coolness  had  its  effect. 
The  French  blew  a  trumi^Jt  of  parley,  and  showed  a  white 
flag.     The  Spaniards  replied.     A  Frenchman  came  out  upon 
the  raft,  and,  shouting  across  the  water,  asked  that  a  Spanish 
envoy  should  be  ^ent  over. 
"  Vou  have  a  raft,"  was  the  reply ;  «  come  yourselves." 
An  Indian  canoe  lay  under  the  bank  on  the  Spanish  side. 
A  French  sailor  swam  to  it,  paddled  back  unmolested,  and 
presently  returned,  bringing  with  him  U  Caille,  IJibaut's 
sergeant-major.     He  told  Menendez  that  the  French  were 
three  hundred  and  fifty  in  all,  and  were  on  their  way  to  Fort 
Caroline;  and, like  the  oflicers  of  tlie  former  party, he  begged 
for  boats  to  aid  tliem  in  crossing  the  river. 

"  My  brotlier,"  said  Menendez,  "  go  and  tell  your  general, 
that,  if  he  wishes  to  s|K..ak  with  me,  lie  may  come  with  four 
or  six  compani..us.  and  that  I  pledge  my  word  he  shall  ao 
back  safe." 

La  Caille  returned  ;   and  Kibaut,   with   eight  gentlemen 
soon  came  over   in  the  canoe.     Menendez  met  them  cour- 
teously, caused  wine  and  preserved  fruits  to  be  placed  before 
them,  —  he  had  come  well  provisioned  on  his  errand  of  blood, 
—  ami  next  led  Kibaut  to  the  reeking  (Jolgotha,  where,  in 
hoai)s  upon  tlie  sand,  lay  the  corpses  of  his  slaughtered  fol- 
lowers.    Ribaut  wai  prepared  for  the  spectacle;   U  Caille 
had  already  seen  it ;  but  he  w.n.1,1  not  believe  tliat  Fort  Caro- 
line was  taken  till  a  part  of  the  plunder  was  shown  him 
Then,  mastering  his  despair,  he  turned  to   the   conqueror. 
"  What  has  befallen  us,"  l,e  said,  "  may  one  day  befall  you  " 
And,  urging  that  the  kings  of  France  and  Spain  were  broth- 
ers and  cl..se  friends,  he  begged,  in  the  name  of  that  friend- 
ship, that  the  Si)aniard   would  ai.l  him  in  conveying  his 
followers  home.     Menendez  gave  him  the  ..an.e  equivocal 


«5«5]  Massacre  of  the  Heretics  53 

answer  that  he  had  given  the  former  party,  and  Rihaut  re- 
turned to  consult  with  his  officers.  After  three  hours  of 
absence,  he  came  back  ua  the  canoe,  and  told  the  Adelantado 
that  some  of  his  jKJople  were  readj  to  surrender  at  discretion, 
but  that  many  refused. 
"  They  can  do  as  they  please,"  was  the  reply. 
In  behalf  of  those  who  surrendered  Kibaut  offered  a  ran- 
som of  a  hundred  thousand  ducats. 

"ItwoulU  much  grieve  me,"  said  Menendez, "  not  to  ac- 
cept it ;  for  I  liave  great  need  of  it." 

Ribaut  was  much  encouraged.     Menendez  could  scarcely 
forego  such  a  prize,  and  he  thought,  says  the  Spanish  nar- 
rator, that  the  lives  of  his  followers  would  now  be  safe.     He 
asked  to  be  allowed  the  night  for  deliberation,  and  at  sunset 
recrossed  the  river.     In  the  morning  he  reappeared  among 
tlie  Spaniards,  and  reported  that  two  hundred  of  his  men  had 
retreated  from  the  s|KJt,  but  that  the  ren)aining  hundred  and 
fifty  would  surrender.     At  the  same  time  he  gave  into  the 
hands  of  Menendez  the  royal  standard  and  other  flags,  with 
his  sword,  dagger,  helmet,  liuckler,  and  the  official  seal  given 
him  by  Coligny.     Menendez  directed  an  officer  to  enter  the 
boat  and  bring  over  the  French  by  tens.    He  next  led  Ribaut 
among  the  bushes  behind  the  neighboring  sand-hill,  and  or- 
dered his  hands  to  be  lK)und  fast.     Then  the  scales  fell  from 
the  prisoner's  eyes.     Face  to  face  his  fate  rose  up  before  him. 
He  saw  his  followers  and  himself  entrapped,  —  the  dupes  of 
words  artfully  framed  to  lure  them  to  their  ruin.     The  day 
wore  on ;  and,  as  band  after  band  of  prisoners  was  brought 
over,  they  were  led  behind  the  saud-liill  out  of  sight  from 
the  farther  shore,  and  bound  like  their  general.     At  length 
tlie  transit  was  finished.     With  Idoodshot  eyes  and  weapons 
bared,  the  Si>aniar;fs  closed  around  their  victims. 


T 


54  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1565 

"Are  you  ("atholics  w  Luilmans  :'  and  is  there  any  one 
among  you  wlio  will  go  to  confession  ?" 

Hiltaut  answered,  "  1  and  all  here  are  of  tlie  IJeforiuod 
Vailh." 

And  he  recited  the  Psalm,  "  Domhic,  moticnto  mcL" 

"  We  are  of  earth,"  he  contimied,  "  and  to  earth  wo  must 
return;  twenty  years  more  or  less  can  matter  little;  "  and, 
turning  to  the  Adelautado,  he  hade  him  do  his  will. 

The  stony-hearted  bigot  gave  the  signal ;  and  those  who 
will  way  paint  to  themselves  the  horrors  of  the  scene. 

A  few,  however,  were  spared.     "  I  saved,"  writes  Menen- 
dez,  "  the  lives  of  two  young  gentlemen  of  about  eighteen 
years  of  age,  as  well  as  of  three  others,  the  (ifer,  the  drum- 
mer, and  the  trumi>eter;  and  I  caused  Juan  Ifibao  [Kil.aut] 
with  all  the  rest  to  be  put  to  the  knife,  judging  this  to  be 
necessary  for  the  service  of  (Jod  our  Um\  and  of  your  Ma- 
jesty.    And  I  consider  it  great  good  fortune  that  he  TJuau 
JJibao]  should  ]m  dead,  for  the  King  of  France  could  "effect 
more  with  him  and  five  hundred  drcats  than  with  other  m»'n 
and  five  thousand,  and  he  would  do  more  in  one  year  than 
another  in  ten,  for  he  was  the  most  experienced  sailor  and 
naval  commander  known,  and  of  great  skill  in  this  navigation 
of  the  Indies  and  the  coast  of  Florida.     He  was,  besides, 
preatly  liked  in   P:ngland,  in  which  kingdom  his  reputation 
was  such  that  he  was  appointed  cajitaui-general  of  all  the 
Fiiglish  fleet  aj  aiust  th    French  Catliolics  iii  the  war  between 
Knglanc!  and  France  some  years  ago." 

Such  is  the  sum  of  the  Spanish  accounts,  —  the  self-dam- 
ning testimony  of  the  author  and  abettors  of  tlie  crime;  a 
picture  of  lurid  and  awful  coloring;  and  yet  there  is  reason 
to  believe  that  the  trutli  was  darker  still.' 

»  The  Frcnoh  account  is  giv.ii  in  Le  SInyn.  ■«  narrativo.  Spc  Pionoers  of 
France  lu  tlic  New  World.     Uiiguonots  iu  Florida.     Cli.  VIII.  —  Ed. 


1567]    Expedition  of  Dominique  de  (Jourgues    55 


THE  KXI'EIHTIOX   "I     lM)MIXI(^>rE 
I)K  (i()l''\;-.  ESi 

There  was  a  premleman  of  AfKiit-de-Mai'san,  I)onuni(|ue  do 
Gourgues,  a  soldier  of  aiicR'iit  Iiirtli  and  hi<,'h   iviiuwii.     It 
is   not  certain  that  he  was  a  Huguenot.     The  Simnisli  an- 
nalist calls  him  a  "  terrible  heretic  ;  "    hut  the  French  Jesuit, 
Charlevoix,  anxious  that  the 
faithful    shouhi    share    the 
gh»ry  of  his  exphiits,  affu  iiis 
that,  like  liis  ancestors  be- 
fore  him,   he   was    a  good 
Catholic.    If  so,  his  faith  sat 
lightly  upon  him  ;  and,  ( 'atli- 
olic  or  heretic,  he  hated  the 
Spaniards    with    a    mortal 
hate.     Fighting  in  the  Ital- 
ian   wars,  —  tor    from    boy- 
hood he  was  wedded  to  the 
sword,  —  he  liad  been  taken 
prisoner  by  them  near  Siena, 


Dominiijuf.  dc  GimnjucH 


where  he  had  signalized  himself  by  a  fiery  and  deter- 
mined bravery.  Witli  brutal  insult,  they  chained  him  to 
the  oar  as  a  galley  .«lave.  After  he  hau  long  endured  this 
ignominy,  tlie  Turks  captured  the  ve.s.sel  and  carried  her  to 
Con8tantin..|.lt'.  It  was  Imt  a  change  ..f  tyrants;  but,  soon 
after,  while  she  was  on  a  cmise,  (Jourgues  still  at  the  oar,  a 

»  PiunciTs  of  Fiance  in  the  New  Worl.l.     Hiigiiiuots  in  Florida,  Ch.  X. 


il 


i  j. 


S*  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1567 

galley  af  the  knights  of  Malta  hove  in  .^ij^lit,  bore  down  on  her, 
recaptured  her,  and  set  the  prisoner  free.  For  several  yeais 
after,  his  restless *^irit  found  eni}.loyment  in  voyages  to  Africa, 
Brazil,  and  regions  yet  more  r^KMK^.  His  naval  rei)ute  rose 
high,  but  his  grudge  against  tlie  St«iuiards  still  rankled  within 
him  ;  and  when,  returned  from  liis  rovings,  he  learned  the  tid- 
ijjgs  from  Florida,  his  hot  (Jascon  l)lo.-l  boiled  with  fury. 

The  honor  of  France  had  l)een  foully  stained,  and   ifiere 
was  none    to   sviyK'   away   the   shame.     Tlie    faction-ri,lden 
king  was  dumh.     The  nobles  wh(j  surrounded  liim  were  in 
the  Spanish  interest.     Then,  since  they  jiroved  recreant,  he, 
l)omuii(iue  de  (u-urgues,  a  simple  gentleman,  would  take 
upon  him  to  av.'iige  the   wrong,   and    restore  the  dimmed 
lustre  of  the  Fren.^h  name.     He  .s..ld  Ids  inheritance,  bur- 
rowed money  from  liis  brotlu-r,   who  lield  a  liigh  j>ost  in 
(luienne,  an<l  equip])ed  (liree  small  ve.s.sels,  navigable  hy  sail 
or  oar.     On   hoard  lie  placed  0   hundred  aniuebusiers"  and 
eighty  sailors,  j»i-epared  to  fight  on  land,  if  need  were.     The 
noted   Hlai.se  de  Montluc,  then  lieutenant  for  the  king  in 
Guienne,gave  him  a  commission  to  make  war  on  the  negroes 
of  Benin,  —  that  is,  to  kidnap  them  as  slaves,  an  adventure 
then  held  honorable. 

His  true  design  wa.s  locked  within  his  own  breast.  He 
mu.stered  his  foUowers,  — not  a  few  of  whom  were  of  rank 
ei^ual  to  his  own,  —  feasted  them,  and,  on  the  twenty -second 
of  August,  1567,  sailed  from  the  mouth  of  the  Clmrente. 
Off  Cape  Finisterre,  so  violent  a  storm  buflet-d  his  shiixs  that 
his  men  clamored  to  return;  but  (Jourgues's  spirit  prevailed. 
He  bore  away  for  Africa,  and,  landing  at  the  Rio  del  Oro, 
refreshed  and  cheered  them  as  he  l,est  might.  Thence  he 
sailed  to  Cape  Blanco,  where  the  jealous  Portuguese,  wlio  had 
a  fort  in  the  neighborhood,  set  upon  him  three  negro  chiefs. 


1567]    Expedition  of  Dominique  de  Gourgues    57 

(Jiiurgues  beat  them  oft",  and  reinainetl  master  of  the  harbor  ; 
whence,  however,  he  soon  voyaged  onward  to  Cape  Verd, 
and,  steeii.ig  we.stwanl,  made  for  the  West  Indies.  Here, 
advancing  from  island  to  island,  he  came  to  Hispaniola, 
where,  between  tlie  fury  of  a  hunicane  at  sea  and  the  jeal- 
ousy of  the  Spaniards  on  shore,  he  was  in  no  small  jeop- 
ardy ;  —  "  the  Spaniai'ds,"  exclaims  the  indignant  journalist, 
"who  lliink  that  this  New  Worltl  was  made  for  nobody  but 
them,  and  that  no  other  living  man  has  a  right  to  move  or 
breathe  here!"  (fourgues  landed,  however,  obtained  the 
water  of  wliich  lie  was  in  nee«l,  and  steered  for  Cape  San 
Antonio,  at  the  western  end  of  Cul)a.  There  he  gathered  his 
followeiv  u"iM)ut  lnm,and  addressed  them  with  his  tierj-  Gascon 
eloquence.  For  the  first  time,  he  told  them  hi^  true  purpose, 
inveighed  against  Sjianish  cruelty,  and  painted,  with  angry 
rlietniic,  the  butcheries  of  Fort  Caroline  and  St.  Augustine. 

"  What  disgrace,"  he  cried,  "  if  such  an  insult  should  pass 
aopunished  !  What  glory  to  us  if  we  avenge  it!  To  this 
I  have  dev*»ted  my  fortune.  I  relied  on  you.  1  thought  you 
jealous  enough  of  your  eountrj's  gh)ry  to  sacrifice  life  itself 
in  a  cause  like  this.  Was  1  deceived  ?  I  will  show  you  the 
way ;  1  will  lie  always  at  your  head  ;  I  will  bear  the  brunt 
of  the  danger.     Will  you  refuse  to  follow  me  *  " 

At  first  his  startled  hearers  li.stened  in  silence ;  but  soon 
the  passions  of  that  adventurous  age  ro.se  responsive  to  his 
words.  The  ('ondmstible  French  nature  burst  into  flame. 
The  enthusiasm  of  the  soldiers  rose  t»)  such  a  pitch,  that 
Gourgues  had  nnich  ado  to  make  them  wait  till  the  moon 
was  full  before  tempting  the  jierils  of  the  Bahama  Channel. 
His  time  came  at  length.  The  mmm  rode  higli  alwve  the 
lonely  sea,  and,  silvered  in  its  light,  the  ships  of  the  avenger 
heltl  their  course. 


ii? 


5^  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  f.jeg 

Meanwhile,  it  had  fared  iU  with  the  Spaniards  in  Florida ; 
the  good-will  of  the  Indians  had  vanished.  The  French  had 
been  obtrusive  and  vexatious  guests;  but  their  worst  tres- 
passes had  been  mercy  and  tenderness  compared  to  the  daily 
outrage  of  the  new-comers.  Friendship  had  changed  to 
aversion,  aversion  to  hatred,  and  hatred  to  open  war.  The 
forest  paths  were  beset;  stragglers  were  cut  off;  and  woe  to 
the  Spaniard  who  should  venture  after  nightfall  beyond  call 
of  the  outposts. 

Meuendez,  however,  had  strengthened  himself  in  his  new 
conciuest.     St.  Augustine  was  well  fortified;  Fort  Caroline 
now  Fort  San  Mateo,  was  repaired;  and  two  redoubts,  or 
small  forts,  were  thrown  up  to  guard  the  mouth  of  the  liiver 
of  May, -one  of  them  near  the  present  lighthouse  at  May- 
port,  and  the  otlier  across  the  river  on  Fort  George  Island 
Thence,  on  an  afternoon  in  early  .pring,  the  Spaniards  saw 
t  iree  sail  steering  nortliward.     They   suspected  no  enemy 
und  tlieir  batteries  boomed  a  salute.     Gourgues's  ships  re- 
plied, then  stood  out  to  sea,  and  were  lost  in  the  shades  of 
evening. 

Tbey  kept   iheir  course   all   night,  and.  as  day  broke, 
anchored  at  the  mouth  of  a  river,  the  St.  Mary's,  or  the  San- 
tilla.  by  tlieir  reckoning  fifteen  leagues  north  of  the  River 
of  May.     Here,  as  it  grew  light,  Gouigues  saw  the  borders 
of  the  sea  thronged  with  savages,  armed  and   plumed  for 
^^ar.     Ihey,  too,  Iiad  mistaken  the  strangers  for  Spaniards, 
and  mustered  to  meet  their  tyrants  at  the  landing.    But  in 
tlie  French  ships  there  was  a  trumj.eter  who  had  been  long 
in  Florida,  an.l  knew  the  Indians  well.     He  went  towards 
them  in  a  boat,  with  many  gestures  of  friendship;  and  no 
sooner  v  ;,«  he  recognized  than  the  naked  crowd,  with  yelps 
of  delight,  danced  for  joy  al.jng  the  sands.     Why  had  he 


1568]  Expedition  of  Dominique  de  Gourgues  59 
ever  left  them  ?  they  asked  ;  jlnd  why  had  he  not  returned 
before?  The  iutercourbs  thus  auspiciously  begun  was  ac- 
tively kept  up.  Gourgues  told  the  principal  chief,  —  who 
was  no  other  than  Satouriona,  once  the  ally  of  the  French, 
—  that  he  had  come  to  visit  them,  make  friendship  with 
them,  and  bring  thorn  presents.  At  this  last  announcement, 
so  grateful  to  Indian  ears,  tlie  dancing  was  renewed  with 
double  zeal.  Tlie  next  morning  was  named  for  a  grand 
council,  and  Satouricma  sent  runners  to  summon  all  Indiana 
within  call;  while  Gourgues,  for  safety,  brought  his  vessels 
witliin  tlie  mouth  of  the  river. 

Morning  came,  and  the  woods  were  thronged  with  war- 
riors.    Gourgues  and  his  siddiers  landed  witli  martial  pomp. 
In  token  of  mutual  confidence,  the  Krendi  laid  aside  their 
arquebuses,  and  the  Indians  their  bows  and  arrows.     Satou- 
riona came  to  meet  the  strangers,  and   seated  their  com- 
mander at  his  side,  on  a  wooden  stool,  chaped  and  cushioned 
with  the  gray  Spanish  moss.     Two  old  Indians  cleared  thp 
siK>t  of  brambles,  weeds,  and  grass :  and,  wlien  their  task 
was  finished,  the  triliesmen  took  their  places,  ring  wiihin 
ring,  standing,  sitting,    and  crouching  on   the  ground,— a 
dusky  concourse,  plumed  in  festal  array,  waitiiig  with  giave 
vi.sages  and   intenj  eyes.     Gourgues   was   about   to  speak, 
when  the   chief,  who,  says   the  narmtor,  had  not   learned 
French  manners,  anticipated  him,  and  broke  into  a  vehement 
harangue,  denouncing  the  cruelty  of  the  Spaniards. 

Since  the  French  fort  was  taken,  lie  said,  the  Indians  had 
not  had  one  happy  day.  The  Spaniards  drove  them  from 
tlieir  cabins,  stole  tlieir  corn,  ravished  their  wives  and 
daughters,  and  killed  thi-ir  children;  and  all  this  they  had 
endured  becauf^  tlu'y  loved  the  French.  Tlie^-e  was  a 
French  boy  who  had  oscajKid  from  the  massacre  at  the  I  rl; 


* 


6o  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [15M 

they  had  found  him  in  the  woods ;  and  though  the  Spaniards, 
who  wished  to  kill  him,  demanded  that  they  should  give  hin> 
up,  they  had  kept  him  for  his  friends. 

"  Look  ! "  pursued  the  cliief,  "  here  he  is  ! "  —  and  he 
brought  forward  a  youth  of  sixteen,  named  Pierre  Debr^,  who 
became  at  once  of  the  greatest  service  to  the  French,  his 
knowledge  of  the  Indian  language  making  him  an  excellent 
interpreter. 

Delighted  as  he  was  at  this  outburst  against  the  Spaniards, 
Gourgues  did  not  see  fit  to  display  the  full  extent  of  his  sat- 
isfaction. He  thanked  the  Indians  for  their  good-will,  ex- 
horted them  to  continue  in  it,  and  pronounced  an  ill-merited 
eulogy  on  the  greatness  and  gootlness  of  his  king.  As  for 
the  Spaniards,  he  said,  their  day  of  reckoning  was  at  hand  ; 
and,  if  the  Indians  had  been  abused  for  their  love  of  the 
French,  the  French  would  be  their  avengers.  Here  Satou- 
riona  forgot  his  dignity,  and  leai)ed  up  for  joy. 

"  What ! "  he  cried,  "  will  you  fight  the  Spaniards  ?  " 

"  I  came  here,"  replied  Gourgues,  "  only  to  reconnoitre  the 
country  and  make  friends  with  you,  and  then  go  back  to 
bring  more  soldiers ;  but,  when  I  hear  what  you  are  suffering 
from  them,  I  wish  to  fall  uj)on  them  this  very  day,  and  res- 
cue you  from  their  tyranny."  All  around  the  ring  a  clamor 
of  applauding  voices  greeted  his  words. 

"  But  you  will  do  your  part,"  pursued  the  Frenchman ; 
"  you  will  not  leave  us  all  the  honor  ? " 

"  We  will  go,"  replic'  Satouriona,  "  and  die  with  you,  if 
need  be." 

"  Then,  if  we  fight,  we  ought  to  fight  at  once.  How  soon 
can  you  have  your  warriors  ready  to  march  ? " 

The  chief  asked  three  days  for  preparation.  Gourgues  cau- 
tioned him  to  secrecy,  lest  the  Spaniards  should  take  alarm. 


i5««]    Expedition  of  Dominique  de  Gourgues    6i 

"  Never  fear,"  was  the  answer ;  "  we  hate  them  more  than 
you  d'j." 

Then  came  a  distribution  of  gifts,  —  knives,  hatchets,  mir- 
rors, bells,  and  beads,  —  while  the  warrior  rabble  crowded  to 
receive  them,  with  eager  faces  anil  outstretched  arms.  The 
distribution  over,  Gourgues  asked  tlie  chiefs  if  there  was  any 
other  matter  in  which  he  could  serve  them.  On  this,  point- 
ing to  his  shiit,  th.'v  expressed  a  iK'culiar  admiratiiju  for  that 
garment,  ant!  begged  each  t(.  have  t)ne,  to  be  worn  at  feasts 
and  councils  during  lite,  and  in  their  graves  after  death. 
Gourgues  complied;  and  his  grateful  confederates  were 
_  soon  stalking  about  him,  fluttering  in  the  sjKiils  of  his  ward- 
robe. 

To  learn  the  strength  and  position  of  the  Spaniards, 
Gourgues  now  sent  out  three  scouts ;  and  with  them  went 
Olotoraca,  Satouriona's  nephew,  a  young  brave  of  great 
renown. 

The  chief,  eager  to  prove  his  good  faith,  gave  as  hostages 
his  only  surviving  son  and  his  favorite  wife.  They  were 
sent  on  board  the  ships,  while  the  Indians  dispersed  to  their 
encampments,  with  leaping,  str  i>viii^,  dancing,  and  whoops 
of  jubilation. 

The  day  appointed  came,  and  with  it  the  savage  army, 
hideous  in  war-paint,  and  plumed  for  battle.  The  woods 
rang  back  their  songs  and  yells,  as  with  frantic  gesticulation 
they  brandished  their  war-clubs  and  vaunted  their  deeds  of 
prowess.  Then  they  drank  the  black  drink,  endowed  with 
mystic  virtues  against  hardship  and  danger ;  and  Gourgues 
himself  pretended  to  swallow  the  nauseous  decoction. 

These  ceremonies  consumed  the  day.  It  was  evening 
before  the  allies  tiled  off  into  their  forests,  and  took  the  path 
for  the   Spanish  forts.     The  French,  on  their  part,  were  to 


It  ; 


11 


62  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [15M 

repair  by  sea  to  tlie  rendezvous.  (J.nir-ueM  inustenMl  an.l 
addressed  hi.s  im-n.  It  was  needlc-ss:  their  ai.jor  was  at 
fever  heiKht.  They  broke  in  npun  Jus  wor.Ls,  aiul  <lei..a..,led 
to  be  led  at  once  against  the  enemy.  Fmncoi.s  IJounlehus 
with  twenty  sailors,  was  K-ft  with  the  fihips.  and  (Juurgues 
affectionately  bade  him  farewell. 

"If  I  am  slain  in  this  most  just  enteri-iise."  he  said,  "  I 
leave  all  in  your  eliarge,  and  pray  you  to  carry  i.uk 'my 
soldiers  to  France." 

There  were  many  embraeings  nm..ng  the  excited  Frendi- 
men,  — many  .sympathetic  t,  ars  from  those  who  were  to  stay 
behind,— many  messages  left  with  them  iov  wives,  children, 
friends,  and  mistresses;  and  then  this  valiant  ban.I  pushed 
their  boats  from  shore.  It  was  a  hare-brained  venture.  f.)r. 
as  young  Debrd  had  assure.l  them,  the  Spaniar.ls  „„  tliJ 
liiverof  May  were  four  liundred  in  number,  secuiv  behind 
their  ramparts. 

Hon  r  after  hour  the  sailors  pulled  at  the  on  r.     Tliey  gl  ided 
slowly  by  the  sombre  shores  in  the  sliiminering  moonlight, 
to  the  sound  of  the  murmuring  surf  an.l  tlie  mnuning  pinJ 
trees.     In  the  gray  of  tlie  morning,  they  came  to  the  mouili 
of  a  river,  probably  tlie  Nassau;  and  here  a  northeast  wind 
set   in  with   a  violence   t!iat  almost   wrecked    tlieir   boats. 
Their  Indian  allies  were  waiting  on  the  bank,  but  for  a  wliile 
the  gale  .lelayed  their  crossing.     The  bolder  French  would 
lase  no  time,  rowed  through  the  tossing  waves,  and,  lan.l- 
ing    safely,   left    their    boats   and   luished   int..  the   f.rcst. 
Gourgues  took  the  lead,  in  breastplate  .-^nd  backpiece.     At 
his  si.le  niar.-lie,l  tl,c  young  .thief  ( Uotoraca,  with  a  French 
pike  in  his  hand  ;   and  tlie  iile.s  of  ar.piebuse-men  and  armed 
saib.rs  foIJowe.!  close  behin.l.    They  plunged  thn.ugh  swamps, 
hewed  their  way  thnjugh  brambly  thicl  .-ts  and  the  matted 


I5M]  Expedition  of  Dominique  de  Gourgues  63 
intiic'iciofl  of  the  forests,  and,  nt  five  in  tiio  uftornoon,  almost 
,''iit  with  fati«,'ue  aixl  hunger,  nuiie  to  a  river  or  inlet  of 
the  sea,  n<»t  far  from  the  Jir.st  Si«ini.sh  fort.  Here  lliey 
found  three  hundred  Indians  waiting  for  them. 

Tired  as  he  was,  IJourgues  would  not  rest.  He  wished  to 
attack  at  da\  I-reak,  and  with  ten  arquchusiers  and  his  Indian 
guide  he  set  out  to  reconnoitre.  Night  closed  xqMi  him. 
It  was  a  vain  task  to  struggle  on,  in  pit.-hy  ilarkness,  among 
trunks  of  tre.-s,  fallen  logs,  tangled  vines,  and  swollen  streams. 
Gourgues  returned,  anxious  and  gloomy.  An  Indian  chief 
appromihed  him,  read  through  the  darkness  his  perturbed  look, 
and  ofTered  to  lead  him  by  a  better  path  along  the  margin  of 
the  sea.  ( Jourgues  joyfully  assented,  and  ordered  all  his  men 
U,  jiiarch.  The  Indians,  better  skilled  in  woodcraft,  chose 
the  shorter  course  through  the  forest. 

The  French  forgot  their  weariness,  and  pressed   on  with 
Sliced.     At  dawn  they  and  their  allies  met  on  the  bank  of  a 
stream,  probably  Sister  Creek,  beyond  which,  and  veiy  near, 
was  the  fort.     But  the  tide  was  in,  and  they  tried  in  vain  to' 
cross.     Greatly  vexed,  —  for  he  had  hoped  to  take  the  enemy 
asleep,  — Gourgues  withdrew  his   soldiers    into   the  forest, 
where  they  were  no  sooner  ensconced  than  a  drenching  rain 
fell,  and  they  had  much  ado  to  keep  their  gun-matches  burn- 
ing.    The  light  grew  fast.     Goui^ues  plainly  saw  the  fort, 
the  defences  of  which  seemed  slight  and  unfinished.    He 
even  saw  the  Spaniards  at  work  within.     A  feverish  interval 
elapsed,  tiU  at  length  the  tide  was  out, —  so  far,  at  least, 
that  the  stream  was  fordable.    A  little  higher  up,  a  clump 
of  trees  lay  between  it  and  the  fort.     Behind  this  friendly 
screen  the  passage  was  begun.     Each  man  tied  his  powder- 
flask  to  his  steel  cap,  held  his  anpiebuse  above  his  head  with 
one  hand,  and  gi-asi^d  his  sword  with  the  other.     The  chan- 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No    2) 


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^  APPLIED  IIVHGE     Inc 

^^  1653   tasf    Wd:-^    ■-j'feet 

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.^S  {;'6)    482  -  0300  -  Phone 

^S  (716)    288  -  5989  -  f^a^ 


i 


ii-:- 


\ii 


64  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1568 

nel  was  a  bed  of  cysters.  The  sliari.  sliells  cut  their  feet  as 
tliey  waded  tliroujrl,.  ]Jut  the  farther  bank  was  gained. 
They  emerged  from  the  water,  drenched,  lacerated,  and  bleed- 
ing, but  with  unabated  mettle.  CJourgues  set  them  in  array 
under  cover  of  the  trees.  They  stood  with  kindling  eyes, 
and  hearts  throl)biiig,  but  not  with  fear.  (Jourgues  pointed 
to  the  Spanish  f. .it,  seen  by  glimpses  through  the  bouglis. 
"  Look  :"  he  .said.'-  tliere  are  the  robbers  who  have  stolen  this 
land  from  (.ur  king;  tliere  are  the  mur.lerers  who  have 
butcl'ered  our  countrymen  '"  With  V(.ices  eager,  fierce,  but 
half  sui)piessed,  tliey  demanded  to  he  led  on. 

Oourgues  gave  the  word.  Cazenove,  his  lieutenant,  with 
thirty  men,  pushed  for  the  fort  gate ;  he  himself,  with  the 
main  body,  for  the  glacis.  It  was  near  noon  ;  the  Spaniards 
had  just  finished  their  meal,  and,  .says  the  narrative,  "were 
still  picking  their  teeth,"  when  a  startled  cry  rang  in  their 
ears :  — 

"  To  arms  !  to  arms !  The  Frencli  are  coming !  the  French 
are  coming ! " 

It  was  the  voice  of  a  cannoneer  who  had  that  moment 
mounted  the  rampart  and  seen  the  assailants  advancing  in 
unbroken  ranks,  with  heads  lowered  and  weapons  at  the 
charge.  He  fired  his  cannon  among  them.  He  even  had 
time  to  load  and  fire  again,  when  the  light-limbed  Olotoraca 
bounded  forward,  ran  up  the  glacis,  leaped  the  unfinished 
ditch,  and  drove  his  pike  through  the  Spaniard  from  breast 
to  back.  Gourgues  was  now  on  the  glacis,  when  he  heard 
Cazenove  .shouting  from  the  gate  that  the  Spaniards  were 
escaping  on  that  side.  He  turned  and  led  his  men  thither 
at  a  run.  In  a  moment,  the  fugitives,  sixty  in  all,  were 
eiK-lo-sed  between  his  party  and  that  of  his  lieutenant.'  The 
Indians,  too.  came  leaping   to  the  sp<.t.      Not  a  Spaniard 


i| 


1568]    Expedition  of  Dominique  de  Gourgues    65 

escaped.  All  were  cut  (lt>\vn  lniL  a  few,  reseiveil  by 
Gourgues    for   a   more    in^lorio'is   end. 

Meanwhile  the  Spaniards  in  the  other  fort,  on  the  opposite 
sliore,  cannonaded  the  victors  without  ceasing.  Tlie  latter 
turned  four  captured  guns  against  them.  One  of  Gourgues's 
boats,  a  very  large  one,  had  been  brought  along-shore,  and, 
entering  it  with  eighty  sohliers,  lie  i»ushed  for  the  farther 
bank.  With  loud  yells,  the  Indians  leaped  into  the  river, 
which  is  here  about  three  fourths  of  a  nnle  wide.  Each 
held  his  bow  and  arrows  aloft  in  one  hand,  while  he  swam 
with  the  otlier.  A  panic  seized  the  garrison  as  they  saw 
the  savage  multitude.  They  broke  out  of  the  fort  and  lied 
into  the  forest.  But  the  French  had  already  landed ;  and, 
throwing  themselves  in  the  path  of  the  fugitives,  they 
greeted  them  with  a  storm  of  lead.  The  terrified  wretches 
recoiled;  but  flight  was  vain.  The  Indian  whoop  rang 
behind  them,  and  war-clubs  and  arrows  finished  the  work. 
Gourgues's  utmost  efforts  saved  but  fifteen,  not  out  of  mercy, 
but  from  a  refinement  of  vengeance. 

The  next  day  was  Quasimodo  Sunday,  or  the  Sunday  after 
Easter.  Gourgues  and  his  men  remained  quiet,  making 
ladders  for  the  assault  on  Fort  San  Mateo.  Meanwhile  the 
wh(jle  forest  was  in  arms,  and,  far  and  near,  the  Indians 
were  wild  with  excitement.  They  beset  the  Spanish  fort 
till  not  a  soldier  could  venture  out.  The  garrison,  aware 
of  their  danger,  thovigh  ignorant  of  its  extent,  devised  an 
expedient  to  gain  information ;  and  one  of  them,  pamted 
and  feathered  like  an  Indian,  ventured  within  Gourgues's 
outposts.  He  himself  chanced  to  be  at  hand,  and  by  his 
side  walked  liis  constant  attendant,  Olotoraca.  The  keen- 
eyed  young  savage  })ierced  the  cheat  at  a  glance.  The  spy 
was  seized,  and,  being  examined,  declared  that  ihere  were 

5 


-  i 


66 


The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent 


[1568 
tw..  Inunlml  an.l  sixty  Spaiuards  in  San  Mat....  an.l  that 
ti.cy  l-dieuMl  the  honrh  tu  he  tw.,  th.msan.l,  an.l  were  .s.. 
f.ij;luene.l  that  they  .H.l  n-t  kM..w  what  they  were  .h.injr 

(J.mr^aies,  well   please.!,  ,K>,she.l  on  to  atla.^k  then,.     On 
Afonday  eveninjr  he  s.-nt  f.-rwaid    the  In.lians  to  an.lmsh 
themselves  on  h..th  si.les  of  the  fort.     In  the  morning  he 
f..ll..we.l  with  his  Frenchmen;  ami,  as  the  jrlitlering  ranks 
came  n.to  view,  .ietilins  between  the  forest  and  the  river 
tlie  Spaniar.ls  ..pene.l  on  tliem  with  culverines  fn.m  a  pr..- 
Ji'.-tin-  hasti.m.     The  FrencI,  took  cover  in  the  woods  with 
whi.h   tlie  hills  below  and   behind   the   f.,rt  were  densely 
overgrown.     Jlere,  himself  unseen.  (Jonrgues  eould  survey 
the  whole  extent  of  the  defences,  and  he  presently  descried 
a  strong  party  of  Spaniards  issuing  from  their  works,  cross- 
ing the  ditch,  an.l  advancing  to  reconmntre.    On  this  he  sent 
Cazenove,  with  a  detachn.ent,  to  stati..n  himself  at 'a  point 
well  hidden  by  trees  on  the  flank  of   the  Spaniards,  who 
with  strange  infatuation,  continued  their  advance.     Uourgues' 
and  his  followers  pushed  on  through  the  thickets  to  meet 
them.     As   the   Spaniards   reached   the  edge   of  the   open 
ground,  a  dea.lly  fire  blazed  in  their  faces,  and,  before  the 
smoke  cleared,  the  French  were  among  them,  sword  in  hand 
The  survivon,  would  have  fled;  but  Cazenove's  detachment 
fell  upon  their  rear,  and  all  were  killed  or  taken. 

When  their  comrades  in  the  fort  beheld  their  fate,  a  panic 
seized  them.  Cnscious  of  their  own  deeds,  perpetrated  on 
this  very  spot,  they  could  hope  no  mercy,  and  their  terror 
multiplicl  immeasurably  the  numbers  of  their  enemy  They 
abandoned  the  fort  in  a  body,  and  fled  into  the  wo'ods  most 
remote  from  tlie  French.  Ihit  here  a  deadlier  foe  awaited 
them ;  for  a  host  of  Imlians  leape.l  up  from  ambush.  Then 
rose  those  hideous  war-cries  which  have  curdled  the  boldest 


1568]    Expedition  of  Dominique  de  Gourgues    67 

Mood  iiiul  lilaiu'lied  the  iiianlk'sL  rlieek.  The  forest  war ricrs, 
with  savaj^e  ecstasy,  wreaked  their  loiij^  arrears  of  vengeance, 
while  the  Frenih  hastened  to  the  siiot,  and  lent  their  swords 
to  the  slaiijfliter.  A  few  jirisoners  were  saved  alive  ;  the 
rest  were  slain;    and  thus  did  the  Spaniards  make  bloody 


at 


it  for  the  l)ntcher\    of  Fort  Caroline. 


oncment  lor  tne  onlcner}    ot 

But  (lourgues's  vengeance  was  not  yet  apjieased.  Hard 
l>y  the  fort,  tlie  trees  were  pointed  tnit  to  him  on  which 
^lenendez  had  hanged  his  captives,  and  placed  over  them 
the  inscription,  "  Not  as  to  Frenchmen,  but  as  to  Lutherans." 

(Jourgues  ordered  the  Spanish  juisoners  tu  be  led  thither. 

"  Did  you  think,"  he  sternly  said,  as  the  pallid  wretches 
stood  ranged  before  him,  "  that  so  vile  a  treachery,  so 
detestal)le  a  cruelty,  against  a  king  so  potent  and  a  nation 
so  generous,  would  go  unpunished  ?  I,  one  ot  the  humblest 
gentlemen  among  my  king's  subjects,  have  charged  myself 
with  avenging  it.  Even  if  the  Most  Christian  and  the  Most 
Catholic  Kings  had  been  enemies,  at  deadly  war,  such  per- 
fidy and  extreme  cruelty  would  still  have  been  unpardon- 
able. Now  that  they  are  friends  and  close  allies,  there  is 
no  name  vile  enough  to  brand  your  deeds,  no  punishment 
sharp  enough  to  re([uite  them.  But  though  you  cannot 
sufl'er  as  you  deserve,  you  shall  suffer  all  that  an  enemy  can 
honorably  inflict,  that  your  example  may  teach  others  to 
t)bserve  the  peace  and  alliance  which  you  have  so  perfidi- 
ously violated." 

They  were  hanged  where  the  French  had  hung  before 
them ;  and  over  them  was  nailed  the  inscription,  burned 
with  a  hot  iron  on  a  tablet  of  pine,  "  Not  as  to  Spaniards, 
but  as  to  Traitors,  Tlobbers,  and  Murderers." 

Gourgues's  mission  was  fulfilled.  To  occupy  the  country 
had  never  been  his  intention ;  nor  was  it  possible,  for  the 


i 


'■■>. 


6H 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


[1568 
Spanianls  wore  still  in  fo-ve  at  St.  Augustine.  His  was  a 
wlnrlwuKl  visitati.,n,-to  ravage,  ruin,  and  vanish.  He 
harangued  the  Indians,  and  e.vh.,rted  them  to  denudi.h  the 
fort.  They  fell  to  the  work  with  eagerness,  and  in  les.s  than 
a  day  not  one  stone  was  left  on  anotlier. 

(J<.urjruc.s  returne.l  to  the  forts  at  the  mouth  of  (I,e  rivor 
<Iestroyed  them  also,  and  to.,k  up  his  march  for  his  ships' 
It  was  a  tnun.phal  proeess.on.  The  In.lians  thn.nge.l  around 
the  Victors  with  gifts  of  fish  an.l  gan.e;  and  an  .d.I  woman 
ceclared  t'at  she  was  now  ready  to  die,  suice  she  had  seeu 
tJie  h  rcnch  once  more. 

The  ships  were  ready  for  sea.  Gourgues  bade  his  discon- 
solate allies  fare,.-ell,  and  nothing  would  content  them  but 
a  promise  to  return  soon.  Before  embarking,  he  addn  .ed 
his  own  men  :  — 

"My  friends,  let  us  give  thank3  to  God  for  the  success  He 
has  granted  us.     It  is  He  who  saved  us  from  tempests ;  it  is 
He  who  mclined  the  hearts  of  the  Indians  towards  us;  it  is 
He  who  blmded  the  understanding  of  the  Spaniards.     They 
were  four  to  one,  in  forts  well  armed  and  provisioned.     Our 
right  was  our  only  strength;  and  yet  we  have  conquered 
^ot  to  our  own  swords,  but  to  God  only,  we  owe  our  victory 
Then  let  us  thank  Him,  my  friends;  let  us  never  for-^et  His 
favors;  and  let  us  pray  that  He  may  co-itinue  them^aving 
us  from  dangers,  and  guiding  us  safely  home.     Let  us  pray, 
too,  that  Ho  may  s.)  dispose  the  iiearts  of  men  that  our  i.eri]s 
and  toils  may  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  our  king  and  of  all 
France,  since  all  we  have  done  was  done   for   the  king's 
service  and  for  the  honor  of  our  country." 

Thus  Spauia'ds  and  Frenchmen  alike ^ laid  their  reeking 
swords  on  God'u  altar. 


1534]       The  Story  of  Cartier's  Discoveries         69 


TIIK   STORY   OF  CARTIER'S  DISCOVERIES,  15341 

The  ancient  towji  of  St.  Malo,  thrust  out  like  a  buttress 
into  the  sua,  stran<re  and  grim  of  aspect,  breathing  war  from 
its  walls  and  battlements  of  ragged  stor.e,  a  stronghold  of 
privateers,  the  home  of 
a  race  whose  intractable 
and    defiant   indepen- 
dence neither  time  nor 
change  has  subdued,  has 
been  for  centuries  a  nur- 
sery of  hardy  mariners. 
Among  the  earliest  and 
most    eminent    on    its 
list  stands  the  nan^e  of 
Jacques  Cartier.  His  por- 
trait hangs  in  the  town- 
hall  of  St.  Malo,  —  bold, 
keen  features  bespeaking 
a  sjiirit  not  apt  to  quail 
before  the  wrath  of  man 
or  of  the  elements. 

Sailing  from  St.  Malo 
on  the  twentieth  of  April, 
1534,  Caitier  steered  for  Newfoundland,  passed  through  the 
Straits  of  Belle  Isle,  entered  the  (lulf  of  Chaleurs,  planted  a 

1  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World.     Samuel  de  Cbiniplnin,  Ch.  I, 


Jacques  Cartier 


I 


70  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1535 

crns.s  at  (}.isiii';,  and,  never  doulitinf,'  lliaL  he  was  im  tlie  lii^di 
road  Lo  Catliay,  advanced  uji  the  Si.  liawienee  till  he  saw  llie 
sliorps  (if  Anticnsli.  But  aiiliininal  stmjiis  were  {falherinj^. 
The  V(iya>,'eis  tuok  counsel  towvther,  turned  their  jirows  east- 
ward, and  hore  away  for  France,  carrying,'  thither,  as  a  sample 
of  the  natural  jiroducts  of  the  New  \V(»rld,  twoyounji;  Indians, 
lured  into  their  clutchi-s  ]<y  an  act  of  villanous  treachery. 
Tlie  voyaj^e  was  a  mere  reconnaissance. 

The  spirit  of  discovery  was  awakened.  A  passajje  to  India 
could  be  found,  and  a  new  France  Jmilt  uji  heyond  the  At- 
lantic. ^linj^Ied  with  such  views  of  hiterest  and  andiition 
was  another  motive  scarcely  less  .otent.  The  heresy  of 
Luther  was  convulsing  (Jermany,  and  the  deejier  heresy  of 
Calvin  infecting  France.  Devout  Catliolics,  kindling  with 
redoubled  zeal,  wtmld  fain  recjuite  the  Church  for  her  losses 
in  the  Old  Worhl  by  winning  to  her  fold  the  infidels  of  the 
New.  But,  in  pursuing  an  end  at  once  so  pious  and  so 
politic,  Francis  the  F'irst  was  setting  at  naught  the  supreme 
Pontiff  himself,  since,  l)y  the  prepf)sterous  bull  of  Alexander 
the  Sixth,  all  America  had  been  given  to  the  Spaniards. 

In  October,  1534,  Cartier  received  from  Chabot^  another 
commission,  and,  in  spite  of  secret  but  bitter  opposition  from 
jealous  traders  of  St.  ]\Ialo,  he  jirepared  for  a  second  vovage. 
Three  vessels,  tlio  largest  not  above  a  hundred  and  twenty 
tons,  were  placed  at  his  disposal,  and  Claude  de  I'ontbriand, 
Charles  de  la  romnieraye,  and  other  gentlemen  of  liirth, 
enrolled  themselves  for  the  adventure.  On  the  sixteenth  of 
May,  1535,  officers  and  sailors  assembled  in  the  cathedral  of 
St.  ^Malo,  where,  after  confession  and  mass,  they  received  the 
parting  blessing  of  the  bisho}).  Three  days  later  they  set 
sail.     The  dingy  walls  of  the  rude  old  seaport,  and  the  white 

*  The  Admiral  of  France.  —  Ed. 


1535]       The  Story  of  Cartier's  Discoveries  71 

Mcks  thill  line  tlie  neij^hlxirinj;  sIkhv.s  of  I'.ritlany,  faiU^l 
fron-  their  sijjhl,  ami  soon  they  were  toshinj?  in  a  fuiiims 
temiK'st.  The  scattered  shijw  escajted  the  danger,  and,  re- 
unilinfj  at  the  Straits  of  IJflle  Isle,  steered  wt'stward  alonfj 
the  enast  of  Labrador,  till  they  reache<l  a  small  hay  op|Misile 
the  island  of  Anticosti.  ('artier  called  it  the  l>ay  of  St. 
Lawrence,  a  name  afterwards  extended  to  the  entire  gulf, 
and  to  the  great  river  above.' 

To  ascend  this  great  river,  anil  tempt  the  hazards  of  its 


>  Caiticr  mils  tlio  St.  Lnwn'iice  the  "  Itivcr  of  llocliclajja,"  or  "the  }jiiat 
river  of  Canada."  He  coiifiiics  the  iiatiie  of  Canada  to  a  ilistriut  extending 
from  tlie  Islo  aux  Coudrcs  in  the  St.  Lawrence  to  a  jioiut  at  some  distancu 
ahovG  tlie  site  of  Quebec.  The  country  below,  lie  adds,  was  called  by  the 
Indians  Sagucnay,  and  that  alwve,  Jlochdaja.  In  the  map  of  (ierard  Mercator 
(UiOD)  the  name  Canada  is  given  to  a  town,  with  an  adjacent  district,  on  the 
river  Stndiii  (St.  Charles).  Lcscarbot,  a  later  writer,  insists  that  the  country 
on  both  sides  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  from  Ilochclaga  to  its  mouth,  bore  the 
name  of  I'imada. 

In  the  second  map  of  Ortelius,  pubiishcd  alwut  the  year  1,")72,  New  France, 
Nova  Francia,  is  thus  divided  :  —  '\inada,  a  distri('t  on  the  St.  Lawrence 
above  the   lUvcr   Sagucnay ;    CI       .  'helaga),   the  angle   between   the 

Ottawa  and  the  St.  Lawrence  ;  ,  district  below  the  river  of  that 

name ;  Moscosa,  south  of  the  St.      :  ,<-  and  cast  of  the  liiver  Uichelieu  ; 

Avncal,  west  and  south  of  Moscosa  ;  ^\^'uinhcga,  Maine  and  New  Brunswick  ; 
Apalachen,  Virginia,  Pennsylvania,  etc.;  Terra  Cortcrcalis,  Labrador;  Flor- 
id'i,  Mississippi,  Alabama,  Floriila. 

Mercator  confines  tlic  name  of  New  France  to  districts  bordering  on  the 
St.  Lawrence.  Others  give  it  a  much  broader  a[)plication.  The  use  of  this 
name,  or  the  nearly  allied  names  of  Francisca  and  La  Franciscane,  dates  back, 
to  say  the  least,  as  far  as  l.">25,  and  the  Dutch  geographers  are  especially  free 
in  their  use  of  it,  out  of  spite  to  the  Siianiards. 

The  derivation  of  the  name  of  Canada  has  been  a  jwint  of  discission.  It 
is,  without  doubt,  not  Spanish,  but  Indian.  In  the  vocabulary  of  the  language 
of  Hochelaga,  appended  to  the  journal  of  Cartier's  second  voyage,  Canada  is 
set  down  as  the  word  for  a  town  or  village.  "  lis  apiwllent  une  villc,  Canada." 
It  bears  the  same  meaning  in  the  Jlohawk  tongue.  I'oth  languages  are  dia- 
lects of  the  Iroquois.  Lesearbot  affirms  that  Canada  is  simply  an  Indian 
proper  name,  of  which  it  is  vain  to  seek  a  meaning,  Belleforest  also  calls  it 
an  Indian  word,  but  translates  it  "Terre,"  as  docs  also  Thcvet. 


I  ill.  ..:i 


72  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1535 

intricate  navigation  with  no  bpttor  pilots  than  the  two  young 
Indians  kidnapjK'd  the  year  hefore,  was  a  ventine  of  no  light 
risk.  But  skill  or  fortune  prevailed;  and,  on  the  (in<t  of 
September,  the  voyagers  reached  in  safety  tlie  gorge  of  the 
gloomy  Saguenay,  with  its  t.nvering  tlilFs  an.l  sullen  depth 
of  waters.  I'assing  the  Isle  au.\  Coudres,  and  the  lofty  prom- 
ontory of  CaiK3  Tourniente,  tliey  came  to  aiu-hor  in  a  quiet 
channel  between  the  northern  shore  and  the  margin  of  a 
richly  wooded  island,  where  the  trees  were  so  thiekly  hung 
with  grapes  that  Cartier  named  it  the  Island  of  Uacchus. 

Indians  came  swarming  from  the  shores,  paddled  their 
canoes  about  the  ships,  and  clandiered  to  the  decks  to  gaze 
in  bewilderment  at  the  novel  scene,  and  listen  to  the  story 
of  their  travelled  countrymen,  marvellous  in  their  ears  as  a 
visit  to  another  planet.  Cartier  received  them  kindly,  lis- 
tened to  the  long  harangue  of  the  great  chief  Donnacona, 
regaled  him  with  bread  and  wine;  and,  when  relieved  at 
length  of  his  guests,  set  forth  in  a  boat  to  explore  the  river 
above. 

As  he  drew  near  the  opening  of  the  channel,  the  Hoche- 
laga  again  spread  before  him  the  broad  expanse  of  its  waters. 
A  mighty  promontorj-,  rugged  and  bare,  tlinist  its  scarped 
front  into  the  surging  current.  Here,  clothed  in  the  majesty 
of  solitude,  breathing  the  stern  poetry  of  the  wilderness,  rose 
the  cliffs  now  rich  with  heroic  memories,  wliere  the  fiery 
Count  Frontenac  cast  defiance  at  his  foes,  where  Wolfe, 
Montcalm,  and  Montgomery  fell.  As  yet,  all  was  a  name- 
less barbarism,  and  a  cluster  of  wigwams  held  the  site  of  tlie 
rock-built  city  of  Quebec.  Its  name  was  Stadacond,  and  it 
owned  the  sway  of  the  royal  D(jnnacona. 

Cartier  set  out  to  visit  this  greasy  potentate,  ascended 
the  river  St.  Charles,  by  him  called  the  St.  Croix,  landed, 


«535l       The  Story  of  Cartier's  Discoveries         73 

crossed  the  niemlows,  climbed  the  nxrks,  threaded  the  forest, 
and  emerged  upon  a  siiualid  humlet  1  f  hark  eahins.  When, 
having  satislied  their  curiosity,  he  and  his  jMirty  were  rowing 
for  the  ships,  a  friendly  interruption  met  them  at  the  mouth 
of  the  St.  Charles.  An  old  chief  harangued  them  from  the 
liaiik,  men,  boys,  and  children  screeched  welcome  from  the 
iiicailow,  and  a  troop  of  hilarious  S(|uaw  danctd  knee-deep 
in  tlie  water.  Tlie  gift  of  a  few  strings  of  beads  completed 
llu'ir  deliglit  and  nHJoublcd  their  ogility  ;  and,  from  the  di.s- 
tanco  of  a  mile,  their  siuill  songs  of  jubilation  itill  reached 
lI>o  ears  of  the  receding  Frenchmen. 

Tiie  hamlet  of  Stadaci  mt?,  with  its  king,  Donnacona,  and 
its  naked  lords  and  i»rinces,  was  not  the  metropolis  of  this 
forest  state,  since  a  town  far  greater  —  so  the  Indians  averred 
—  stood  by  the  brink  of  the  river,  many  days'  journey  above. 
It  was  called  Ilochelaga,  ami  the  great  river  itself,  with  a 
wide  reach  of  adjacent  country,  had  borrowed  its  name. 
Thither,  with  his  two  young  Indians  as  guides,  Cartier  re- 
solved to  go ;  but  misgivings  seized  the  guides,  as  the  time 
drew  near,  while  Donnacona  and  his  tribesmen,  jealous  of 
the  plan,  set  themselves  to  thwart  it.  The  Breton  captain 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  their  dissuasions;  on  which,  failinp  '^•t 
touch  his  reason,  they  api)ealed  to  his  fears. 

One  mornuig,  as  the  ships  still  lay  at  anchor,  the  French 
beheld  three  Indian  devils  descending  in  a  canoe  towards 
them,  dressed  in  black  and  white  dog-skins,  with  faces  black 
as  ink,  and  horns  long  as  a  man's  arm.  Thus  arrayed,  they 
drifted  by,  while  the  principal  fiend,  with  fixed  eyes,  as  of 
one  piercing  the  secrets  of  futurity,  uttered  in  a  loud  voice 
a  long  harangue.  Then  they  paddled  for  the  shore ;  and  no 
sooner  did  they  reach  it  than  each  fell  flat  like  a  dead  man 
in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe.     Aid,  however,  was  at  hand ;  for 


r  ! 


ill 


KJi    I 


1 


74  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1535 

Donnacona  and  his  triliesmen,  rushing  pell-mell  from  the 
adjacent  wouds,  raised  the  swooning  nias(|ueraders,  and,  with 
shrill  claniois,  bore  them  in  their  arms  within  the  sheltering 
thickets.     Here,  for  a  full  half  hour,  the  French  could  hear 
tliem  liaranguing  in  soleuni  conclave.     Then  the  two  young 
Indians  whom  Cartier  had  l)n)ught  back  from  France  came 
out  of  the  buslies,  enacting  a  pantomime  of  amazement  and 
terror,  clasping  their  hands,  and  calling  (m  Christ  and  tlie 
^'irgin  ;  whereupon  Cartier,  shouting  from  the  vessel,  asked 
wliat  was  tlie  matter.    They  replied,  tliat  tlie  god  Coudouagiiy 
liad  sent  to  warn  the  French  against  all  attempts  to  ascend 
the  great  river,  since,  sliould  they  persist,  snows,  terajjests, 
and  drifting  ice  would  recpiite  their  rashness  with  inevitable 
ruin.     The  French  replied  that  Coudouagny  was  a  fool ;  that 
lie  could  not  hurt  those  who  believed  in  Christ;  and  that 
they  might  tell  this  to  his  three  messengers.     Tlic  assembled 
Indians,  witli  little  reverence  for  tlieir  deity,  pretended  great 
contentment  at  this  assurance,  and  danced  for  joy  along  the 
beacli. 

Cartier  now  made  ready  to  depart.  And,  first,  he  caused 
the  two  larger  vessels  to  be  towed  for  safe  harborage  within 
tlie  mouth  of  tlie  8t.  Charles.  "With  the  smallest,  a  galleon 
of  forty  tons,  and  two  open  boats,  carrying  in  all  fifty  sailors, 
besides  Pontbriand,  La  Tommeraye,  and  other  gentlemen,  he 
set  out  for  Hochelaira. 

Slowly  glitling  on  their  way  by  walls  of  verdure  brightened 
in  the  autumnal  sun,  they  saw  forests  festooned  with  grape- 
vines, and  waters  alive  with  wild-fowl ;  they  heard  the  song 
of  the  blacU.ird,  the  thrusli,  and,  as  they  fondly  thought,  the 
nightingale.  The  galleon  grounded ;  they  left  her,  and,  ad- 
vancing with  the  boats  alone,  on  the  second  of  October  neared 
the  goal  oi  their  hopes,  the  mysterious  Ilochelaga. 


»S35]       The  Story  of  Cartier's  Discoveries  75 

.lust  behnv  where  now  are  seen  tlie  quays  and  storehouses 
of  Montreal,  a  thousand  Indians  thronged  the  shore,  wild 
with  delight,  danchig,  singing,  crowding  about  the  strangers, 
and  showering  into  the  boats  their  gifts  of  fish  and  luaize ; 
and,  as  it  grew  dark,  fires  lighted  up  the  night,  while,  far  and 
near,  tlie  Frencli  ecjuld  see  the  excited  savages  leajiing  and 
rejoicing  by  tlie  blaze. 

At  dawn  of  day,  marshalled  and  accoutred,  they  marched 
for  llochelaga.  An  Indian  path  led  them  through  the  forest 
which  covered  the  site  of  ^Montreal.  The  morning  air  was 
chill  and  sharp,  the  leaves  were  changing  hue,  and  beneath 
the  oaks  the  ground  was  thickly  strewn  with  acoms.  They 
soon  met  an  Indian  chief  with  a  party  of  triliesmen,  or,  as 
the  old  narrative  has  it, "  one  of  the  principal  lords  of  the 
said  city,"  attended  with  a  numerous  retinue.  Greeting 
them  after  the  concise  courtesy  of  the  forest,  he  led  tliem  to 
a  fire  kindled  by  the  side  of  th  i  path  for  their  comfort  and 
refreshment,  seated  them  on  tl  e  ground,  and  made  them  a 
long  harangue,  receiving  in  requital  of  his  eloquence  two 
hatchets,  two  knives,  and  a  crucifix,  the  last  of  which  he  was 
invited  to  kiss.  This  done,  they  resumed  their  march,  and 
presently  came  upon  open  fields,  covered  far  and  near  with 
the  ripened  maize,  its  leaves  rustling,  and  its  yellow  grains 
gleaming  between  the  parting  husks.  Defore  them,  wrapj^ed 
in  forests  painted  by  the  early  frosts,  rose  the  ridgy  back  of 
the  Mountain  of  IMontreal,  and  below,  encompassed  with  its 
cornfields,  lay  the  Indian  town.  Nothing  was  visible  but  its 
encircling  palisades.  Tliey  were  of  trunks  of  trees,  set  in  a 
triple  row.  The  outer  and  inner  ranges  inclined  till  they  met 
and  crossed  near  the  summit,  while  the  ujiright  row  between 
them,  aided  by  transverse  braces,  gave  to  tlie  whole  an  abun- 
dant strength.     Within  were  galleries  for  the  defenders,  rude 


Hi 


76  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1535 

ladders  to  mount  them,  aud  magazines  of  stones  to  throw 
down  on  the  heads  of  assailants.  It  was  a  mode  of  fortifi- 
cation practised  by  all  the  tribes  speak-'ng  dialects  of  the 
Iroquois. 

The  voyagers  entered  the  narrow  portal.     Within,  they 
saw  some  fifty  of  those  large  oblong  dwellings  so  familiar  in 
after  years  to  the  eyes  of  the  Jesuit  apostles  in  Irocpiois  and 
Hun.n  forests.     They  were  about  fifty  yards  in  leiigtli,  and 
twelve  or  fifteen  wide,  framed  of  sapling  poles  closely  covered 
with  slieets  <jf  bark,  and  eadi  containing  several  fires  and 
several  families.    In  the  midst  of  the  town  was  an  open  area, 
or  public  s(iuare,  a  stone's  throw  in  width.     Here  Cartier  and 
his  followers  stopped,  while  the  surrounding  liouses  of  bark 
disgorged   their  inmates,  — swarms  of  children,  and  young 
women  and  old,  their  infants  in  tlieir  arms.     They  crowded 
about  tlie  visitors,  crying  for  delight,  touching  their  beards, 
feeling  their  faces,  and  holding  up  the  screeching  hifants  to 
be  touched  in  turn.     The  marvellous  visitors,  strange  in  hue, 
strange  in  attire,  with  moustached  lip  and  bearded  chin,  with 
arquebuse,  halberd,  helmet,  and  cuirass,  seemed  rather  demi- 
gods than  men. 

Due  time  having  been  allowed  for  this  exuberance  of 'fem- 
inine rapture,  the  warriors  interposed,  banished  the  women 
and  children  to  a  distance,  and  scjuatted  on  the  ground 
around  the  French,  row  witliin  row  of  swarthy  forms  and  eager 
faces,  "as  if,"  says  Cartier,  "  we  were  going  to  act  a  play." 
Then  appeared  a  troop  of  women,  each  bringing  a  mat,  with 
which  they  carpeted  the  bare  earth  for  the  behoof  of  their 
guests.  The  latter  being  seated,  the  chief  of  the  nation  was 
borne  before  them  on  a  deer-skin  by  a  number  of  his  tribes- 
men, a  bedridden  old  savage,  paralyzed  ami  helpless,  squalid 
as   the  rest  in  his  attire,  and  distinguislied  only  by  a  red 


15351       The  Story  of  Car  tier's  Discoveries  77 

fillet,  inwrought  with  the  dyed  quills  of  the  Canada  porcu- 
pine, encircling  his  lank  black  hair.     Thty  placed  him  on 
the  ground  at  Cartier's  feet  and  made  signs  of  welcome  for 
him,  while  he  pointed  feebly  to  his  powerless  limbs,  and  Im- 
plored the  healing  touch  from  the  hand  of  tlie  French  chief. 
Cartier  complied,  and  received  in  acknowledgment  the  red 
fillet  of  his  grateful  patieni.     Then  from  surrounding  dwel- 
lings appeared  a  woful  throng,  the  sick,  the  lame,  the  blind, 
the  maimed,  the  decrepit,  brought  or  led  forth  and  i)laced  on 
the  earth  l)efore  the  i)erplexed  commander,  "  as  if,"  he  says, 
'•  a  god  had  come  down  to  cure  them."     Ilis  skill  in  med- 
icine being  far  behind  the  emergency,  he  ])ronounced  over 
his  petitioners  a  portion  of  the  (Jospel  of  St.  John,  made  the 
sign  of  the  Cioss,  and  uttered  a  prayer,  not  for  their  bodies 
only,  but   for  their   misera'  le   souls.      Next   he    read   the 
passion  of  the  Saviour,  to  whi(.-h,  though  ct)mprehending  not 
a  word,  his  audience  listened  with  grave  attention.     Then 
came  a  distribution  of  ])resents.     The  sciuaws  and  cliiltueu 
were   recalled,   and,  with   the  warriors,  placed   in  separate 
groups.     Knives  and  hatchets  were  given  to  the  men,  and 
beads  to  the  women,  while  pewter  rings  and  images  of  the 
Agnus  Dei  were  flung  among  the  tnjop  of  chihlren,  whence 
ensued   a  vigt)rous    scramble  in   the   stpiare  of   Ho(!helaga. 
Xow  the  French  trumiieters  x>ressed  their  trumpets  to  their 
lips,  and  l)lew  a  blast  that  filled  the  air  with  warlike  din  and 
the  liearts  of  the  hearers  with  amazement  and  delight,     bid- 
ding their  hosts  farewell,  the  visitors  formed  their  ranks  and 
defded  through  the  gate  once  more,  desi)ite  the  efforts  of  a 
crowd  of  women,  who,  with  clamorous  hosjiitality,  beset  them 
with  gifts  of  fish,  beans,  corn,  and  other  viands  of  uninvitmg 
aspect,  which  the  Frenchmen  courteously  declined. 

A  troop  of  Indians  followed,  and  guided  them  to  the  top 


I!    1 


78  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1535 

of  the  neighborinjT  mountain.     Cartier  called  it  Mont  Royal, 
Montreal;  anu  hence  the  name  of  the  ''usy  city  which  now 
holds  the  site  of  the  vanislied  Ilochelaga.     Stadacoud  and 
Hochelaga,  Quebec  and  ^lontival,  in  the  sixteenth  century 
as  in  the  nineteentli,  were  the  centres  of  Canadian  population. 
From  the  summit,  tliat  noble  prospect  met  his  eye  wliich 
at  this  day  is  tlie  delight  of  tourists,  l)ut  strangely  chauged, 
since,  first  of  wlute  men,  the  IJieton  voyager  gazed  uix)n  it. 
Tower  and  dome  and  spire,  congregated  roofs,  wliite  sail  and 
gliding  steamer,  animate  its  vast  expanse  with  varied  life. 
Cartier  saw  a  .lifferent  scene.     East,  west,  and  south,  the 
mantling  forest  was  over  all,  and  tlie  broad  blue  ribbon  of 
the  great  river  glistened  amid  a  realm  of  verdure.     IJeyond, 
to  the  bounds  of  Mexico,  stretched  a  leafy  Josert,  and  the 
vast  liive  of  industry,  tlie  miglity  battle-ground  of  later  cen- 
turies, lay  sunk   in   savage   torpor,  wrapped  in  ixiiniitable 
woods. 

The  French  re-embarked,  bade  farewell  to  Hochelaga, 
retraced  their  lonely  o.urse  down  the  St.  Lawrence,  and 
reached  Stadacoud  in  safely.  On  the  bank  of  the  St. 
Charles,  their  companions  had  built  in  tlieir  absence  a  fort 
of  palisades,  and  the  sliips,  hauled  up  the  little  stream,  lay 
moored  before  it.  Here  tlie  self-exiled  company  were  soon 
])esieged  l)y  the  rigors  of  the  Canadian  whiter.  The  rocks, 
the  sliores,  the  pine  trees,  the  solid  floor  of  the  frozen  river, 
all  alike  were  blanketed  in  snow,  beneath  the  keen  cold  rays 
of  the  dazzling  sun.  The  drifts  rose  above  the  sides  of  their 
ships ;  masts,  spai-s,  and  cordage  were  thick  with  glittering 
incrustations  and  sparkling  rows  of  icicles;  a  frosty  armor, 
four  inches  thick,  encased  tlie  bulwarks.  Yet,  in  tlie  bitter- 
est weather,  the  neighboring  Indians,  «  hardy,"  says  the  jour- 
nal, "as  so  many  beasts,"  came  daily  to  the  fort,  wading,  half 


1536]       The  Story  of  Cartier's  Discoveries         79 

naked,  waist-cleei)  through  the  snow.  At  length,  tlieir  friend- 
shiji  began  to  al)ate;  tlieir  visits  grew  less  £re(iuent,  and 
durmg  December  had  wholly  ceased,  when  a  calamity  fell 
upon  the  French. 

A  malignant  scurvy  brf>ke  out  among  them.  :M,"n  after 
man  went  down  before  the  hideous  disease,  till  twenty-live 
were  dead,  "iid  only  three  or  four  were  left  in  health.  The 
sound  were  too  few  to  attend  the  sick,  and  the  wretc.'ed 
suU'crers  lay  in  helpless  despair,  dreaming  of  the  sun  and  the 
vines  of  France.  The  ground,  hard  as  Hint,  deKed  their  leeble 
etl'orts,  and,  unable  to  bury  their  dead,  they  hid  them  in 
snow-drifts.  Cartier  appealed  to  the  st.ints ;  but  they  turned 
a  deaf  ear.  Tlien  he  nailed  against  a  tree  an  image  of  the 
Virgin,  and  on  a  Sunday  summoned  forth  his  woe-begone 
followers,  who,  haggard,  reeling,  bloated  with  their  maladies, 
moved  in  procession  to  the  spot,  and,  kneehng  in  the  snow, 
sang  litanies  and  psalms  of  David.  That  day  died  I'lulippe 
Kougemont  of  Amboise,  aged  twenty-two  years.  The  Holy 
Virgin  deigned  no  other  resjwnse. 

There  was  fear  tliat  the  Indians,  learning  their  misery, 
might  finish  the  work  that  scm-vy  had  begun.  None  of 
them,  thereft)re,  were  allowed  to  approach  the  fort;  and 
when  a  party  of  savages  lingered  within  hearing,  Cartier 
forced  his  invalid  garrison  to  beat  with  sticks  and  stones 
against  the  walls,  that  their  dangerous  neighbors,  deUuk'd  by 
the  clatter,  might  think  them  engaged  in  hard  labor.  These 
objects  of  their  fear  proved,  however,  the  instruments  of 
their  salvation.  Cartier,  walking  one  day  near  the  river, 
met  an  Indian,  who  not  long  before  had  been  prostrate, 
like  many  of  his  fellows,  with  the  scurvy,  but  who  was  now, 
to  all  api>earance.  ii;  high  health  and  siiirif;.  What  agency 
had  wrought  this  maivellous  recovery  !     According   to  the 


I)    '■ 


80  Tlie  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1536 

Indian,  it  was  a  certain  evergreen,  called  by  him  ameda,  a 
decoction  of  the  leaves  of  which  was  sovereign  against  the 
disease.  The  experiment  was  tried.  The  sick  men  drank 
copiously  of  the  healing  draught,  —  so  copiously  indeed  that 
in  six  days  they  drank  a  tree  as  large  as  a  French  oak. 
Thus  vigorously  assailed,  tlie  distemper  relaxed  its  hold,  and 
heallh  and  Jiope  began  '.o  revisit  the  hapless  company. 

When  this  winter  of  misery  luid  worn  away,  and  the  sliips 
were  tliawed  from  their  icy  fetters,  Cartier  prepared  to  re- 
turn. He  had  made  notable  discoveries  ;  but  these  were  as 
nothing  to  the  tales  of  wonder  that  had  reached  his  ear,— 
of  a  land  of  gold  and  rubies,  of  a  nation  white  like  the 
French,  of  men  wlio  lived  without  food,  and  of  others  to 
whom  Nature  had  granted  but  <jne  leg.  Should  he  stake 
his  credit  on  tliese  marvels  ?  It  were  better  that  they  wlio 
liad  recouMli'd  them  to  him  should,  witli  tlieir  own  lips  re- 
count them  also  to  tlie  king,  and  to  this  end  he  restdved 
that  Donnacona  and  his  chiefs  should  go  with  him  to  court. 
He  lured  them  tlierefore  to  the  fort,  and  led  them  into  an 
ambuscade  of  sailors,  who,  seizing  tlie  astonished  guests,  hur- 
ried ;1iem  on  board  the  sliips.  Having  accomplished  this 
treachery,  the  voyngers  proceeded  to  jdant  tlie  emblem  of 
(Christianity.  The  cross  was  .aised,  the  llei! --de-lis  planted 
near  it,  and,  spreading  their  sails,  they  steered  for  home.  It 
was  the  sixteenth  of  July,  iri^fi,  when  Cartier  again  cast 
anchor  und  r  the  walls  oi  St.  ^Malo. 

[Cartier  made  a  third  voyage  to  the  New  World  in  1541 
as  captain-general  under  l)e  IJoberval,  whose  commission 
appointed  him  Lord  of  Norumbega,'   Viceroy  and  Lieuteu- 

>  Nonuiiboj,'a  iiicliulccl  tlie  vres-  and  Xov.i  S.otia  on  the  nortli,  anil 
pnt  state  of  Maim-,  ami  was  'some-  ]iart  of  New  F.ngland  on  tke  south, 
times  held  to  include  New  Hriinswick       —  Kd. 


i54i-»6ooi    The  Story  of  Cartier's  Discoveries      Si 

ant-General  in  Canada,  Hochelaga,  Sagiienay,  Newfoundland, 
etc.,  etc.  A.  lien  De  Iluberval  reached  Newfoundland  in 
June  of  the  following  year  he  met  Cartier,  wh  ,  proving 
faithless  to  his  trust,  had  broken  up  his  colony  at  Cap 
Kouge  above  Quebec,  and  was  returning  to  France.  His 
defection  was  fatal  to  the  enterprise.  De  Roberval  made 
his  way  up  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Cap  Rouge,  but  winter, 
famine,  and  disease,  joined  to  the  despotism  of  the  leader, 
cut  short  the  life  of  the  infant  colony. 

"With  De  Ivolterval  closes  the  prelude  of  the  French- 
American  drama,"  says  Park  man  ;  "  tempestuous  years  and 
a  reign  of  blood  and  tire  were  in  store  for  France.  The  reli- 
gious wars  begot  the  hapless  colony  of  Florida,  but  for  more 
than  half  a  centurj-  left  New  France  a  desert,"  visited  alone  by 
the  hardy  Breton  fishermen  who  plied  their  trade  upon  the 
lonely  banks  of  Newfoundland,  or,  prompted  by  the  advent- 
urous love  of  gain,  sailed  up  the  broad  St.  Lawrence  to 
barter  with  the  Indians  for  their  furs. 

At  tlie  close  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  Marquis  de  la 
Roche  obtained  a  patent  from  the  king  to  establish  a  colony 
in  New  France.  The  enterprise  was  signally  unsuccessful. 
Laden  svith  a  crew  of  convicts  and  desperadoes  the  tiny 
vessel  held  its  course  until  the  shores  of  Sable  Island  rose 
above  the  sea.  Here  the  convicts,  forty  in  number,  were 
landed,  while  La  Roche,  with  his  more  trusty  followers, 
sailed  to  explore  the  neighboring  coasts  and  choose  a  site 
for  the  capital  of  his  new  dominion.  A  tempest  swept  him 
back  to  France,  and  for  five  years  the  wretched  remnant 
languished  on  the  island,  when  a  Norman  pilot  was  de- 
spatched to  bring  the  outcasts  home. 

In  the  meantime,  on  the  ruin  of  La  Roche's  enterprise, 
a  new  one  had  been  founded.    Pontgrav^,  a  merchant  of 

6 


32  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1607 

St.  Main,  It'iitriu'tl  liinisi'lf  with  Cliauviii,  a  raplaiu  of  the 
marine  will,  had  inHuencu  at  court.  A  jiatent  was  granted 
them,  and  an  unsuwessl'ul  ellort  was  made  towards  cuhmiza- 
tion.  Upon  Uiv  death  of  Cliauvin  in  1G02  a  new  patent 
was  granted  to  De  ChasU's,  wlio  allied  himself  with  I'ont- 
grave,  and  secured  the  services  of  the  already  distinguished 
Champlaui.i 

This  voyage  of  1003  was  devoted  merely  to  exploration. 
On  Chaniplain's  return  to  France  he  discovered  that  hia 
employer,  n)e  Chastes,  was  dead. 

In  1603,  De  Monts,  a  Huguenot  gentleman  of  the  court, 
received  another  royal  patent,  conferring  upmi  him  the  duty 
and  the  privilege  of  colonizing  Acadia,  at  that  time  and 
afterwards  an  ill-deHned  territory  extending  from  the  lati- 
tude of  rhiladelphia  northward  through  New  Brunswick 
and  Nova  Scotia.  Champlain's  second  voyage  was  made  in 
1604  in  th3  service  of  De  M(«nts.  From  1604  to  1607  he 
was  for  the  most  part  at  Tort  Iloyal  (now  Annapolis)  in  the 
Acadian  peninsula,  but  many  months  in  each  year  were 
spent  in  exploration.  —  Ed.] 


1  Samuel  (le  Chaniplain  was  liorn 
in  1567  at  tlie  small  si'a-i)ort  of  Brou- 
agfi  on  the  liay  of  liiscay.  He  had 
foiii,'ht  for  the  kinj^'s  cause  in  Brit- 
tany, and  Henry  the  Fourth  out  of 
his  own  si  nder  revenues  had  Riven 
hitu  a  pension  to  niaiutain  liim  near 
his  jKTSon.     I'.ut  Chani[ilain's  roving 


nature  was  not  to  be  denied,  and  the 
war  in  Brittany  over,  he  voyaged  for 
two  years  in  the  Si)anish  Indies,  con- 
reiving  the  idea  of  a  ship  canal  across 
the  Istlinius  of  Panama.  His  first 
voyage  to  Canada  was  made  in  the 
service  of  De  Chastes  and  Pontgrave. 
—  Ei). 


,608]     Champlain's  Third  Voyage  to  Canada     83 


CIIAMrLAIN'S   TiniM)  VOYACIK   TO   CANADA^ 

A  LONELY  ship  sfiili'd  up  the  St.  T^wrence.  The  white 
whales  floundering  in  the  Lay  of  Tadoussac,  and  the  wild 
duck  diving  as  the  foaming  prow  drew  near,  —  there  was 
no  life  but  these  in  all  that  watery  solitude,  twenty  miles 
from  shore  to  shore.  The 
ship  was  from  Honfleur,  and 
was  commanded  by  Samuel 
de  Champlain. 

l)e  Monts,  after  his  ex- 
clusive privilege  of  trade  was 
revoked,  and  his  Acadian 
enterprise  ruined,  had  aban- 
doned it  to  I'outrincourt. 
Terhaps  it  would  have  been 
well  for  him  had  he  aban- 
doned with  it  all  Transat- 
lantic enterprises ;  but  the 
passion  for  discovery  and  the 
noble  amloition  of  founding 
colonies  liad  taken  possession 

of  his  mind.  These,  rather  than  a  mere  hope  of  gain,  seem 
to  have  been  his  controlling  motives  ;  yet  the  profits  of  the 
fur-trade  were  vital  to  the  new  designs  he  was  meditating, 
to  meet  the  heavy  outlay  they  demanded ;  and  he  solicited 
and  obtained  a  fresh  monopoly  of  the  traffic  for  one  year. 
1  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World.     Samuel  de  Champlain,  Ch.  IX. 


Samteel  de  Champlain 


84  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  hm 

Clian.i.lain   was,  at  the  time,  in  Paris;  but  his  uiuiuiet 

th.-UKhts  turned  we.siwanl.     He  was  enani.TCd  of  the  New 

^\'orUl,  wh...se  n.pjro,!  charms  had  seized  his  faney  and  his 

heart;  and  as  explorers  of  Arctic  seas  have  pined  in  their 

repose  for  polar  ice  and  snow,  so  did  his  restless  thoughts 

revert  to  the  fo«-wrapped  coasts,  the  piny  odors  of  forests, 

tlie  noise  of  waters,  the  sharp  and  piercing  sunlight,  so  dear 

to  his  renienihrance.     He  l..nge.I  to  unveil  the  mystery  of 

that  houndless  wilderness,  and  j.lant  the  Catholic  faith  and 

the  power  of  France  amid  its  ancient  barbarism. 

Five  years  before,  he  had  explored  the  St.  Lawrence  as  far 
as  the  rapids  above  M.mtreal.     On  its  banks,  as  he  thought 
was  the  true  site  for  a  settlement. -a  fortified  jK.st,  whence.' 
as  from  a  secure  basis,  the  waters  of  the  vast  iuterior  might 
be  traced  back  towanls  their  sources,  and  a  western  route 
dKsc.vered  to  China  an.l  Japan.     For  the  fur-trade,  too,  the 
innumerable  streams  that  descended  to  the  great  river  might 
all  be  closed  against  foreign  intrusion  by  a  single  fort  at 
some  comman.Hng  ^.oint,  and  made  tributaiy  to  a  rich  and 
permanent  commerce;  while  — and  this  was  nearer  to       * 
heart,  for  he  ha.l  often  been  heard  to  say  that  the  saving  of 
a  s..ul  was  worth  more  than  the  conquest  of  an  empire  — 
cnuntless  savage  tribes,  in  the  bondage  of  Satan,  might  by 
the  same  avenues  be  reached  and  redeemed. 

I)e  Monts  embraced  his  views;  an.l,  fitting  out 'two  ships, 
gave  comman.l  of  one  t.,  the  elder  Fontgrave.  of  the  other  to 
Cliami)laiP  The  former  was  to  tra<le  with  the  Indians  and 
bn.g  back  tlie  cargo  of  furs  which,  it  was  hoped,  would  meet 
♦  he  expense  -f  the  v..yage.  To  Champlaiu  fell  the  harder 
(■       f  setth  aient  and  exploration. 

.'utgnvd,  laden   with   goods   for    the    Indian  trade  of 
Tadoussac,  sailed  from  Houfieur  on  the  fifth  of  April,  1608. 


i6o8]     Chiimplain's  Third  Voyage  to  Canada     85 

Clianiplain,  with  men,  arms,  and  stores  for  the  colony,  fol- 
lowed, eight  days  later.  On  the  fifteenth  of  May  he  was  on 
tjie  Grand  IJank;  on  the  thirtieth  he  passed  Gasp«5,  and  on 
the  third  of  June  neared  Tadoussac.  No  living  thing  was 
to  be  seen.  He  anchored,  lowered  a  boat,  and  rowed  into 
the  port,  round  the  rocky  ix)int  at  the  southeast,  then,  from 
the  fury  of  its  winds  and  currents,  called  La  Pointe  de  Tons 
les  Diables.  There  was  life  enougli  within,  and  more  than 
he  cared  to  find.  In  the  still  anchorage  under  the  cliffs  lay 
rontgrav(5'3  vessel,  and  at  her  side  another  ship,  which  proved 
to  l)e  a  Basque  fur-trader. 

Pontgravd,  aniving  a  few  days  before,  had  found  himself 
anticipated  by  the  Basques,  who  were  busied  in  a  brisk  trade 
with  bands  of  Indians  cabined  along  the  borders  of  the  cove, 
lie  displayed  the  royal  letters,  and  commanded  a  cessation 
of  the  prohibited  traffic ;  but  the  Basques  proved  refractory, 
declared  that  they  would  trade  in  spite  of  the  king,  fired  on 
Pontgrave  with  cannon  and  musketry,  wounded  him  and  two 
of  his  men,  and  killed  a  third.  They  then  boarded  his 
vessel,  and  carried  away  all  his  cannon,  small  arms,  and 
ammunition,  saying  that  they  would  restore  them  when  they 
had  tinished  their  trade  and  were  ready  to  return  home. 

Chauiplain  found  his  comrade  on  shore,  in  a  disabled 
condition.  The  Basques,  though  still  strong  enough  to 
make  tight,  were  alarmed  for  the  consequences  of  their  con- 
duct, and  anxious  to  come  to  terms.  A  peace,  therefore,  was 
signed  on  board  their  vessel;  all  differences  were  referred 
to  the  judgment  of  the  French  courts,  harmony  was  re- 
stored, and  the  choleric  strangers  betook  themselves  to 
catching  whales. 

This  p)rt  nf  Tadoussac  was  long  the  centre  of  the  Cana- 
dian fur-trade.     A  desolation  of  barren  mountains  closes 


86  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  iisos 

round  it,  betwixt  wlioso  ritjs  i)f  ruj,'tje(l  granite,  bristling  with 
savins,  liirclit's,  and  firs,  the  Saguenay  rolls  its  gloomy  waters 
from  the  northern  wiUlerness.  Centuries  of  civilization  have 
not  tamed  the  wihlness  uf  the  jdace;  and  still,  in  grim 
repose,  the  mountains  hoUl  their  guard  around  the  waveless 
lake  that  glistens  in  their  sliadow,  and  doubles,  in  its  sullen 
mirror,  crag,  jirecipice,  anil  forest. 

Near  the  brink  of  the  cove  or  harbor  where  the  vessels 
lay,  and  a  little  below  the  mouth  of  a  brook  which  formed 
one  of  the  outlets  of  this  "mall  lake,  stood  the  remains  of 
the  wooden  barrack  built  by  Chauvin  eight  years  before. 
Above  the  brook  were  the  lodges  of  an  Indian  camp, — 
stacks  of  poles  covered  with  birch-bark.     They  belonged  to 
an  Algonquin  horde,  called  Montagnaia,  denizens  of  sur- 
rounding wilds,  and  gatherers  of  their  only  harvest,  —  skins 
of  the  moose,  caribou,  and  bear;  fur  of  the  beaver,  marten, 
otter,  fox,  wild-cat,  and  lynx.     Nor  was  this  all,  for  they 
were  intermediate  traders  betwixt  the  French  and  the  shiver- 
ing bands  who  roamed  the  weary  stretcli  of  stunted  forest 
between  the  head-waters  of  the  Saguenay  and   Hudson's 
Bay.     Indefatigable  canoe-men,  in   their  birchen   vessels, 
light  as  egg-shells,  they   threaded  the   devious  tracks  of 
countless   rippling   streams,   shady   by-ways  of  the   forest, 
where  tlie  wild  duck  scarcely  finds  depth  to  swim ;  then  de- 
scended to  their  mart  along  those  scenes  of  picturesque  yet 
dreary  grandeur  which  steam  has  made  familiar  to  modern 
tourists.    With  slowly  moving  paddles,  they  glided  beneath 
the  cliff  whose  shaggy  brows  frown  across  the  zenith,  and 
whose  base  the  deep  waves  wash  with  a  hoarse  and  hollow 
cadence ;  and  they  passed  the  sepulchral  Bay  of  the  Trinity, 
dark  as  the  tide  of  Acheron,  —  a  sanctuary  of  solitude  and 
silence:  depths  which,  as  the  fable  runs,  no  sounding  line 


ik 


ifios]     Champlain's  Third  Voyage  to  Canada     87 

can  fathom,  and  heights  at  whose  dizzy  verge  the  wheeling 
eagle  seems  a  speck. 

Peace  being  established  with  the  Basques,  and  the  wounded 
Pontgrav^  busied,  as  far  as  might  be,  in  transferring  to  the 
hold  of  his  ship  the  rich  lading  of  the  Indian  canoes,  Cliam- 
j)lain  spread  his  sails,  and  again  held  his  cnirse  up  the  St. 
Lawrence.  Far  to  the  south,  in  sun  and  sliadow,  slumbered 
the  woody  mountains  whence  fell  the  countless  springs 
of  the  St.  John,  behind  tenantless  shores,  now  white  with 
glimmering  villages,  \a  Chenaie,  Granville,  Kamouraska, 
St.  Roche,  St.  Jean,  V'incelot,  lierthier.  But  on  the  north 
the  jealous  wilderness  still  asserts  its  sway,  crowding  to  the 
river's  vcrpje  its  walls,  domes,  and  towers  of  granite ;  and  to 
this  hour,  its  solitude  is  scarcely  broken. 


88 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [icos 


FOUNDING   OF  QUEBEC 


hi 

m 


Above  the  point  of  the  Island  of  Orleans,  a  constriction  of 
the  vast  channel  narrows  it  to  less  than  a  mile,  with  the 
green  heights  of  Point  Levi  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other 
the  clifTs  of  Quebec.^  Here,  a  small  stream,  the  vSt.  Charles, 
enters  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  in  the  angle  betwixt  them  rises 
the  promontory,  on  two  sides  a  natural  fortress.  Between 
the  cliffs  and  the  river  lay  a  strand  covered  with  wahmts 
and  other  trees.  From  this  strand,  by  a  rough  passage  gullied 
downward  from  the  place  wliere  Prescott  Gate  wm  guards 
the  way,  one  might  climb  the  heights  to  the  broken  plateau 
above,  now  burdened  with  its  ponderous  load  of  churches, 
convents,  dwellings,  ramparts,  and  batteries.     Thence,  by  a 

>  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  Now  World.    Saniupl  ile  Cliamplain,  Cli.  I.\. 

»  The  origin  of  this  n.imc  has  been  dispntcil,  but  there  is  no  good  ground 
to  doubt  its  Indian  origin,  which  is  distinctly  airiinied  by  Clianiidain  and 
Lescarbot.  Charlevoix,  Pastes  Chronnliyiqucs  (1608),  derives  it  from  the  Al- 
gonquin  word  Qiubcio,  or  Quclihtc,  signifying  a  nai-mwiiiy  or  (ontrncling 
(reMcisscmeiit).  A  half-breed  Algonquin  told  f.::.neau  that  the  word  Qurbrc, 
or  Ouabec,  means  a  strnil.  The  same  writtir  was  told  by  M.  Malo,  a  mission- 
ary among  the  Micniacs,  a  branch  of  the  Algonquins,  that  in  their  dialect  the 
word  Kibfc  liad  the  s-me  meaning.  Martin  .says,  "  Les  Algonquins  rappl- 
lent  Oimbfc,  et  les  Micmars  Keliequr,  c'est  a  dire,  '  lii  on  la  riviere  est  fermee."  " 
Martin's  liressaui,  Ap]..,  326.  The  deriv.itious  given  by  La  Potherie,  Le  Beau, 
and  others,  are  purely  fanciful.  The  circumstance  of  the  word  Quebec  being 
found  engraved  on  the  ancient  seal  of  Lord  Suffolk  (see  Hawkins,  rieiurc  of 
Quebec)  can  only  be  regarded  as  a  curious  coincidence.  In  Cartier's  times  the 
Bite  of  Quebec  was  occupied  by  a  tribe  of  the  Iroquois  race,  who  called  their 
village  Sladacont.  The  Hurons  called  it,  says  S.igard,  ^Itou-Uc^equee.  In 
the  modem  Huron  dialect,  TMou-U:-riti  means  Ihe.  narrows. 


,6o8]  Founding  of  Quebec  89 

gradual  ascent,  the  rock  slu^ied  upward  to  its  highest  summit, 
Cape  Diamond,  looking  down  on  the  St.  Lawrence  from  a 
height  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  Here  the  citadel  now 
stands ;  then  the  fierce  sun  fell  on  the  bald,  baking  rock,  with 
its  crisped  mosses  and  parched  lichens.  Two  centuries  and  a 
half  have  quickened  the  solitude  with  swarming  life,  covered 
the  deep  Itusoni  of  the  river  with  barge  and  steamer  and 
gliding  sail,  and  reared  cities  and  villages  on  the  site  of  for- 
ests ;  but  nothing  can  destroy  the  surpassing  grandeur  of  the 

scene. 

On  the  strand  between  the  water  and  the  cliffs  Champlain's 
axenieu  fell  to  their  work.  They  were  pioneers  of  an  ad- 
vancing host,  — advancing,  it  is  true,  with  feeble  and  uncer- 
tain progress:  priests,  soldiers,  i)easants,  feudal  scutcheons, 
royal  insignia.  Not  the  Middle  Age,  but  engendered  of  it  by 
the  stronger  life  of  modern  centralization ;  sharply  stamped 
with  a  parental  likeness;  heir  to  parental  weakness  and 
]tarental  force. 

In  a  few  weeks  a  pile  of  wooden  buildings  rose  on  the 
brink  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  on  or  near  the  site  of  the  market- 
place of  the  Lower  Town  of  Quebec.  The  pencil  of  Cham- 
l)lain,  always  regardless  of  proiwrtion  and  perspective,  has 
]. reserved  its  likeness.  A  strong  wooden  wall,  surmounted 
by  a  gallery  looi)holed  for  musketry,  enclosed  three  buildings, 
containing  quarters  for  himself  and  his  men,  together  with 
a  courtyard,  from  one  side  of  which  rose  a  tall  dove-cot,  like 
a  belfry.  A  moat  surrounded  the  whole,  and  two  or  three 
small  cannon  were  planted  on  salient  platforms  towards  the 
river.  There  was  a  large  storehouse  near  at  hand,  and  a  i)art 
of  the  adjacent  ground  was  laid  out  as  a  garden. 

In  this  garden  Cham].lain  was  one  moining  directing  his 
laborers,   when   Tetu,  his   pilot,   api^roached  him  with   au 


m 


90  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [.cos 

anxious  countenance,  and  muttered  a  request  to  speak  with 
lum  in  private.     Champlain  assenting,  they  withdrew  to  the 
neighboring  woods,  when  the  pilot  disburdened  himself  of 
his  secret.     One  Antoine  Natel.  a  locksmith,  smitten  by  con- 
science or  fear,  had  revealed  to  him  a  conspiracy  to  murder 
his  commander  and  deliver  Quebec  into  the  hands  of  the 
Basques  and  Spaniards  then  at  Tadoussac.     Another  lock 
smith,  named  Duval,  was  author  of  the  plot,  an.l,  with  the 
aid  .,f  three  accomplices,  liad  befooled  or  frightened  nearly 
all  the  company  into  taking  part  in  it.     Each  was  assured 
that  he  should  make  liis  fortune,  and  all  were  mutually 
pledged  to   poniard  the  first  betrayer  of   the   secret.     The 
critical  point  of  their  enterprise  was  the  killing  of  Cham- 
plain.     Some  were  for  strangling  him,  some  for  raising  a 
false  alarm  in  the  night  and  shooting  him  as  he  came  out 
from  his  quarters. 

Having  lieard  the  pilot's  story.  Champlain.  remaining  in 
the  woods,  desired  his  informant  to  find  Antoine  Natel  and 
bring  him  to  the  spot.     Natel  soon  appeared,  trembling  with 
excitement  and  fear,  and  a  close  examination  left  no  doubt 
of  the  truth  of  his  statement.     A  small  vessel,  built  by 
Pontgravd  at  Tadoussac,  had  lately  arrived,  and  orders  were 
now  given  that  it  should  anchor  close  at  hand.    On  board 
was  a  young  man  in  whom  confidence  could  be  placed. 
Cliamplain  sent  him  two  bottles  of  wine,  with  a  direction  to 
tell  the  four  ringleaders  that  they  had  been  given  him  by 
his  Basque  friends  at  Tadoussac,  and  to  invite  them  to  share 
the  good  olieer.     They  came  aboard  in  the  evening,  and  were 
seized  ami  secured.     «  Voyla  done  mes  galants  bien  eston- 
uez,"i  writes  Cliamplain. 


>  "That  was  a  fine  surinise  for  my  lirave  r.is<Mils."—  Ea 


3J»^.._ 


■I 


,6o8]  Founding  of  Quebec  9^ 

It  was  ten  o'clock,  and  most  of  the  men  on  shore  were 
asleep.  They  were  wakened  suddenly,  and  told  of  the  dis- 
covery of  the  plot  and  the  arrest  of  the  ringleaders.  Tardou 
was  then  promised  them,  and  they  were  dismissed  again  to 
their  beds,  greatly  relieved,  for  they  had  lived  in  trepidation, 
each  fearing  the  other.  Duval's  body,  swinging  from  a  gib- 
bet,  gave  wholesome  warning  to  those  he  had  seduced ;  and 
his  head  was  displayed  on  a  pike,  from  the  highest  roof  of 
the  buildings,  food  for  birds,  and  a  lesson  to  sedition.  His 
three  accomplices  were  carr'.od  by  I'ontgrav^  to  France, 
where  they  made  their  atonement  in  the  galleys. 

It  was  on  the  eighteenth  of  September  that  Pontgrav^ 
set  sail,  leaving  Champlain  with  twenty-eight  men  to  hold 
Quebec  through  the  winter.  Three  weeks  later,  and  shores 
and  hills  glowed  with  gay  prognostics  of  approaching  desola- 
tion,—  the  yellow  and  scarlet  of  the  maples,  the  deep  purple 
of  the  ash,  the  garnet  hue  of  young  oaks,  the  crimson  of  the 
tupelo  at  the  water's  edge,  and  the  golden  plumage  of  birch 
saplings  in  the  fissures  of  the  cliff.  It  was  a  short-lived 
beauty.  The  forest  dropped  its  festal  robes.  Shrivelled  and 
faded,  they  rustled  to  the  earth.  The  crystal  air  and  laugh- 
ing sun  of  October  passed  away,  and  November  sank  upon 
the  shivering  waste,  chill  and  sombre  as  the  tomb. 

A  roving  band  of  Montagnais  had  built  their  huts  near 
the  buildings,  and  were  busying  themselves  with  their 
autumn  eel-fishery,  on  which  they  greatly  relied  to  sus- 
tain their  miserable  lives  through  the  winter.  Their  slimy 
harvest  being  gathered,  and  duly  smoked  and  dried,  they 
gave  it  for  safe-keeping  to  Cliamplain,  and  set  out  to  hunt 
beavers.  It  was  deep  in  the  winter  before  they  came  back, 
reclaimed  their  eels,  built  their  birch  cabins  again,  and  dis- 
posed themselves   for  a  life  of  ease,  until  famine  or  their 


92  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1608 

enemies  should  put  an  end  to  their  enjoyments.  These 
were  by  no  means  without  alloy.  "While,  gorged  with  food, 
they  lay  dozing  on  piles  of  brajiches  hi  their  smoky  huts, 
where,  through  the  crevices  of  the  thin  birch-bark,  streamed 
in  a  cold  capable  at  times  of  congealing  mercury,  their  slum- 
bers were  beset  with  nightmare  visions  of  Iroquois  forays, 
scalpings,  butcherings,  and  burnings.  As  dreams  were  their 
oracles,  the  camp  was  wiKl  with  fright.  They  sent  out  no 
scouts  and  placed  no  guard;  but,  with  each  repetition  of 
these  nocturnal  terrors,  they  came  flocking  in  a  body  to  beg 
admission  within  the  fort.  The  women  and  children  were 
allowed  to  enter  the  yard  and  remain  during  the  night, 
while  anxious  fathers  and  jealous  husbands  shivered  in  the 
darkness  without. 

On  one  occasion,  a  group  of  wretched  beings  was  seen  on 
the  farther  bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  like  wild  animals 
driven  by  famine  to  the  borders  of  the  settler's  clearing. 
The  river  was  full  of  drifting  ice,  and  there  was  no  crossmg 
without  risk  of  life.  The  Indians,  in  their  desperation,  made 
the  attempt ;  and  midway  their  canoes  were  ground  to  atoms 
among  the  tossing  masses.  Agile  as  wildcats,  (hey  all  leaped 
upon  a  huge  raft  of  ice,  the  squaws  carrying  their  children 
on  their  shoulders,  a  feat  at  which  Champlain  marvelled 
when  he  saw  their  starved  and  emaciated  condition.  Here 
they  began  a  wail  of  despair ;  when  liap]>ily  the  pressure  of 
other  masses  thrust  the  sheet  of  ice  against  the  northern 
shore.  They  landed  and  soon  made  their  appearance  at  the 
fort,  worn  to  skeletons  and  horrible  to  hx)k  upon.  The 
French  gave  them  food,  which  they  devoured  with  a  frenzied 
avidity,  and,  unappeased,  fell  upon  a  dead  dog  left  on  the 
snow  by  (Jhamplain  for  two  mouths  past  as  a  bait  for  foxes. 
They  broke  this  carrion  into  fragments,  and  thawed   and 


U    '■!      «4 


s 


¥ 

% 


1609]  Founding  of  Quebec  93 

devoured   it,  to   the   disgust  of   the   spectators,   who  tried 
vainly  to  prevent  them. 

This  was  but  a  severe  acoess  of  the  periodical  famine 
which,  duriug  winter,  was  a  normal  condition  of  the  Algon- 
cpiin  tribes  of  Acadia  and  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence,  who,  un- 
lilve  the  cognate  tribes  of  New  England,  never  tilled  the  soil, 
or  made  any  reasonable  provision  against  the  time  oi  need. 

One  would  gladly  know  how  the  founders  of  Quebec 
spent  the  h)i>g  hinirs  of  their  tirst  winter  ;  but  on  this  point 
the  only  man  among  them,  perhaps,  wlio  could  write,  has 
not  thought  it  necessary  t<i  enlarge.  He  himself  beguiled 
his  leisure  w^i.;  trapping  foxes,  or  hanging  a  dead  dog  from 
a  tree  and  wucching  tlie  hungry  martens  in  their  efforts  to 
reach  it.  Towards  the  close  of  winter,  all  found  abundant 
employment  in  nursing  themselves  or  their  neighbors,  for 
the  inevitalile  scurvy  broke  out  with  virulence.  At  the 
middle  <.f  :\Iay,  only  eight  men  (.f  the  twenty-eight  were 
alive,  and  of  these  half  were  suffering  from  disease. 

This  wintry  i)urgatory  wore  away;  the  icy  stalactites  that 
hung  from  the  dills  fell  crashing  to  the  earth  ;  the  clamor 
of  the  wild  geese  was  heard  ;  the  liluebirds  ap^teared  in  the 
naked  woods  ;  the  water-willows  were  covered  with  their  soft 
cateri>illar-like  blossoms  ;  the  twigs  of  the  swamp-maple  were 
flushed  witli  ruddy  bloom ;  the  ash  hung  out  its  black  tufts ; 
the  shad-bush  seemed  a  wreath  of  snow;  the  white  stars 
of  the  bloodroot  gleamed  among  dank,  fallen  leaves;  and  in 
the  young  grass  of  the  wet  meadows,  tlie  marsh-marigolds 
shone    like  spots  of  gold. 

Great  was  the  joy  of  <  'liamjdain  when,  on  the  fifth  of  June, 
he  saw  a  sailboat  rounding  the  Point  of  Orleans,  betokening 
that  the  s])ring  had  brought  v.ith  it  the  longed-for  succors. 
A  son-in-law  of  Poutgnive      -uied  Marai-s,  was  on  board 


■ 


94  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1609 

and  he  reported  that  Pontgravd  was  then  at  '  adoussac, 
where  he  had  lately  arrived.  Thither  Champlain  hastened, 
to  take  counsel  with  his  comrade.  His  constitution  or  his 
courage  liad  defied  the  scurvy.  They  met,  and  it  was 
determined  betwixt  them,  that,  while  Pontgrave  remained 
in  charge  of  Quebec,  Champlain  .sliould  enter  at  once  on 
his  long-meditated  explorations,  by  which,  like  La  SaUe 
seventy  years  later,  he  had  good  hope  of  finding  a  way  to 
China. 

iUit  there  was  a  lion  in  the  path.  The  Indian  tribes,  to 
whom  peace  was  unknown,  infested  with  their  scalping  par- 
ties tlie  streams  and  pathways  of  the  forest,  and  increased 
tenfold  its  inseparable  risks.  The  after  career  of  Champlain 
gives  abundant  proof  that  he  was  more  than  indifferent  to  aU 
sucli  chances ;  yet  now  an  expedient  for  evading  them  offered 
itself,  so  consonant  with  his  instincts  that  he  was  glad  to 
accept  it. 

During  the  last  autumn,  a  young  chief  from  the  banks  of 
the  then  unknown  Ottawa  had  been  at  Quebec ;  and,  amazed 
at  what  he  saw,  he  had  begged  Champlain  to  join  him  in  the 
spring  against  his  enemies.  These  enemies  were  a  formid- 
a' ' '  race  of  savages,  the  Iroquois,  or  Five  Confederate  Nations, 
who  dwelt  in  fortified  villages  within  limits  now  embraced 
by  the  State  of  New  York,  and  who  were  a  terror  to  all  the 
surrounding  forests.  They  were  deadly  foes  of  their  kindred, 
the  Hurons,  who  dwelt  on  the  lake  which  bears  their  name, 
and  were  allies  of  Algonquin  bands  on  the  Ottawa.*     All 

1  The  tribes  east  of  the  ^lississippi,  Iwtween  the  latitudes  of  Ijike  Superior 
and  of  the  Ohio,  were  divided,  with  slifjht  exceptions,  into  two  fjroups  or 
families,  distinguished  by  a  radical  difference  of  language.  One  of  these 
families  of  tribes  is  called  Algonquin,  from  the  name  of  a  small  Indian  com- 
munity on  the  Ottawa.  T!i.-  ntli.r  is  railed  tlie  Ihirc-n-Iroquois,  from  the 
names  of  its  two  principal  niemlHTS. 


•k.^ 


1809]  Founding  of  Quebec  95 

alike  were  tillers  of  the  soil,  living  at  ease  when  compared 
with  the  famished  Algonciuins  of  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence. 

By  joining  these  Hurons  and  Algonquins  against  their 
Iroquois  enemies,  Champlain  might  make  himself  the  indis- 
pensable ally  and  leader  of  the  tribes  of  Canada,  and  at  the 
same  time  tight  his  way  to  discovery  in  regions  which  other- 
wise were  barred  against  him.  From  first  to  last,  it  was 
the  policy  of  France  in  America  to  miugle  in  Indian  politics, 
hold  the  balance  of  power  between  adverse  tribes,  and  en- 
velop in  the  network  of  her  power  and  diplomacy  the  remot- 
est hordes  of  the  wilderness.  Of  this  pjlicy  the  Father  of 
New  France  may  perhaps  be  held  to  liave  set  a  rash  ami 
premature  example.  Yet,  while  ho  was  apparently  following 
the  dictates  of  lus  own  adventurous  spirit,  it  became  evident, 
a  few  years  later,  that  under  Ins  thirst  for  discovery  and 
spirit  of  knight-errantry  lay  a  consistent  and  deliberate  pur- 
pose. Thai  it  had  already  assumed  a  definite  shape  is  not 
likely ;  but  his  after  course  makes  it  plain  that,  in  embroil- 
ing liiraself  and  his  colony  with  the  most  formidable  savages 
on  tlie  continent,  he  was  by  no  means  acting  so  recklessly  as 
at  first  sight  would  appear. 


A 


96 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1609 


CHAMPLAIN'S   EXPEDITION   ACJAINST   THE 
IKOQUOIS,  1G09» 


It  was  past  the  middle  of  June,  and  the  expected  warriors 
from  the  upper  country  had  nut  cunie:  a  delay  which  seems 
to  have  given  Chani]>lain  little  concern,  for,  without  waiting 
longer,  he  set  out  with  no  better  allies  than  a  band  of  Mon- 
tagnais.  But,  as  he  moved  uj)  the  St.  liawrence,  he  saw, 
thickly  clustered  in  the  bordering  forest,  the  lodges  of  an 
Indian  camp,  and,  landing,  f(niiul  his  Hunm  and  Algonquin 
allies.  Few  of  them  had  ever  seen  a  white  man,  and  they 
surrounded  the  steel-clad  stranger.-,  in  si)eechless  wonder. 
Champlain  asked  for  their  chief,  and  tlie  staring  throng 
moved  with  him  towards  a  lodge;  where  sat,  not  one  chief, 
but  two,  for  each  band  had  its  own.  There  were  feasting, 
smoking,  and  sjieeches;  and,  the  needful  ceremony  over,  all 
descended  together  to  t^tuel»ec;  for  the  strangers  were  bent 
on  seeing  those  wonders  of  arcliitecture,  the  fame  of  which 
had  pierced  the  recesses  of  their  forests. 

On  their  arrival,  they  feasted  their  eyes  and  glutted  their 
appetites;  yelped  consternation  at  the  sharp  explosions  of 
the  arcpiebuse  and  the  roar  of  the  cannon;  pitched  their 
camps,  and  bedecked  themselves  for  their  war-dance.  In 
the  still  night,  their  tire  glared  against  the  black  and  jagged 
cliff,  and  the  fierce  red  light  fell  on  tawny  limbs  convulsed 
with  frenzied  gestures  and  ferocious  stampings;  on  contorted 

1  Pioneurs  of  Fraiu-e  in  the  New  Woilil.     Sainui'l  Je  t'liauiplain,  Ch.  X. 


ieo9]  Expedition  against  the  Iroquois  97 

visapes,  bideous  with  pauit ;  on  biandisluHl  weapjiis,  stono 
war-clubs,  stone  hatchets,  and  stone-pointed  lances;  while 
the  drum  kept  up  its  hollow  boom,  and  the  air  was  split 
with  mingled  yells. 

The  war-feast  followed,  and  then  all  end)arked  together. 
Chaniplain  was  in  a  small  shallop,  carrying  besides  himself, 
eleven  men  of  I'ontgravc^'s  party,  including  his  son-in-law, 
Marais,  and  the  pilot  La  lloutte.     They  were  armed  with 
the  anpiebuse,  a  matchlock  or  firelock  somewhat  like  the 
modern  carbine,  and  fn^m  its  shortness  not  ill  suited  for  use 
in  the  forest.     On  the  twenty-eighth  of  June  they  spread 
their  sails  and  hold  their  course  against  the  current,  while 
around  them  the  river  was  alive  with  canoes,  and  hundreds 
of  naked  arms  plied  the  paddle  with  a  steady,  measured 
sweep.     They  crossed  the  Lake  of  St.  Teter,  threaded  the 
devious  channels  among  its  many  islands,  and  reached  at 
last  the  mouth  of  the  Uivifere  des  Inxpiois,  since  called  the 
Kichelieu,  or  the  St.  John.     Here,  probably  on  the  site  of 
the  town  of  Sorel,  the  leisurely  warrioi-s  encamped  for  two 
days,  hunted,  fished,  and  took  their  eise,  regaling  their  allies 
with  venison  and  wild-fowl.     They  quarrelled,  too;  three 
fourths  of  their  number  seceded,  took  to  their  canoes  in 
dudgeon,  and  paddled  towards  their  homes,  while  the  rest 
pursued  their  course  up  the  broad  and  placid  stream. 

Walls  of  verdure  stretched  on  left  and  right.  Now,  aloft 
in  the  T:)nely  air  rose  the  cliffs  of  lielreil,  and  now,  before 
them,  framed  in  circling  forests,  the  Basin  of  Chambly  spread 
its  tranquil  mirror,  glittering  in  the  sun.  The  shallop  out- 
sailed the  canoes.  Champlain,  leaving  his  allies  behind, 
crossed  the  basin  and  tried  to  pursue  his  course ;  but,  as  he 
listened  in  the  stillness,  the  unwelcome  noise  of  rapids  reached 
his  ear,  and,  by  glimpses  through  the  dark  foliage  of  the 

7 


i 


9S  The  Struggle  fur  a  Continent  f.609 

Islets  nf  St.  Johri,  Iio  f..iil.l  see  the  jfleam  ..f  sn.my  f..am 

and  tlie  Hash  ..f  hurryiii},'  waters.     Leaving  tlio  h..at"l)y  tlie 

shore  in  eliar^ry  of  four  men,  he  went  witli  Marais,  U  L'outte, 

and  five  others,  to  e.xplore  tlie  wild  before  him.     They  pushed 

their  way  ihrough   the  damps  and  shad..ws  of  the  woo.l, 

through  thickets  and  tangled  vines,  over  mossy  roeks  and' 

mouldering   lugs.     Still   the   lioar.se  surging   of'  the   rai>i.ls 

followed   them;  and  when,  parting   the  screen  of   foliage, 

they  looked  out  upon  the  river,  they  saw  it  thi.'k  set  wiUi' 

rocks,  where,  plunging  over  ledges,  gm-gling  under  drift-logs, 

darti.ig  along  clefts,  and  hoiling  in  chasms,  the  angry  watCTs 

filled  the  solitude  with  monotonous  ravings. 

Champlain  retraced  his  steps.  He  had  learned  the  value 
of  an  Imlian's  word.  His  allies  had  promised  him  that  his 
boat  could  pass  unobstructed  throughout  the  wh.jlo  journey. 
"  It  alllicted  me,"  he  says,  "and  troubled  me  exceedingly  to 
be  obliged  to  return  without  having  seen  so  great  a  lake, 
full  of  fair  islands  and  bordered  with  the  fine  countries' 
v.'hich  they  had  described  to  me." 

When  he  reached  the  boat,  he  found  the  whole  savage 
crew  gathered  at  the  spot.  He  mildly  rebuked  their  bad 
faith,  but  added,  that,  though  they  had  deceived  him,  he,  as 
far  as  might  be,  would  fulfil  his  pledge.  To  this  end,' he 
directed  .Marais,  with  the  boat  and  the  greater  part  of  the 
men,  to  return  to  Quebec,  while  he,  with  two  who  ofTered  (o 
follow  him,  should  proceed  in  the  Indian  canoes. 

The  warriors  lifted  their  c-noes  from  the  water, and  bore 
them  on  their  shoulders  half  a  league  through  the  forest  to  the 
smoother  stream  above.  Here  the  chiefs  made  a  nmster  of 
their  forces,  counting  twenty-four  canoes  and  sixty  warriors. 
All  embarked  again,  and  advanced  once  more,  'by  marsh, 
meadow,  i.,ie,st,  and  scattered  islands,  then  full  of  game,  for 


1009]  Expedition  against  the  Ir^  -  'ois  99 

il  wii.s  ail  viiiinliiibiUMl  1  iinl,  the  war-iiath  and  Itallle-grouiul 
of  hostile  trilifs.  Tlu^  wairior.s  obsei veil  a  cortain  .systeiii  in 
tlifir  ailvaiico.  Sttnie  were  in  front  as  a  van«;uaril ;  others 
formed  the  main  bodv  ;  while  an  equal  number  were  in  the 
forests  on  tiie  flanks  and  rear,  hunting  for  the  subsistcneo 
t)f  the  whole;  for,  though  they  had  a  provision  of  parched 
niai/.e  ]M>unded  into  meal,  they  ke[it  it  for  use  when,  from 
the  vicinity  of  the  enemy,  hunting  should  become  iniiK)s- 
sible. 

Late  in  the  day  they  landed  and  drew  up  their  canoes, 
ranging  them  closely,  side  by  siile.  Some  stripiK'd  sheets  of 
bark,  to  cover  their  camp  sheds;  others  gathered  wood,  the 
forest  lieing  full  of  dead,  dry  trees ;  others  felled  the  living 
trees,  for  a  barricade.  They  seem  to  have  had  steel  fixes, 
obtained  by  barter  from  the  French  ;  for  in  less  than  two 
hours  they  had  made  a  strong  defensive  work,  in  the  form 
of  a  half-cir  ,le,  ipen  on  the  river  side,  where  their  canoes 
lay  on  the  strand,  and  large  enough  to  enclose  all  their  huts 
and  sheds,  S(jme  of  their  number  had  gone  forward  as 
scouts,  and,  returning,  reported  no  signs  of  an  enemy.  This 
was  the  extent  of  their  precaution,  for  they  placed  no  guard, 
but  all,  in  full  security,  stretched  themselves  to  sleep,  —  a 
vici(»us  custom  from  which  the  lazy  warrior  of  the  forest 
rarely  departs. 

Tiu'v  iiad  not  forgotten,  however,  to  consult  their  oracle. 
The  lucdicine-man  jiitched  his  magic  lodge  in  the  woods, 
formed  of  a  small  stack  of  poles,  planted  in  a  circle  and 
brouglit  toge*^her  at  the  tops  like  stacked  muskets.  Over 
these  he  jilaced  the  filthy  deer-skins  which  served  him  for  a 
robe,  and,  creeping  in  at  "  narrow  opening,  hid  himself 
from  view.  Crouched  in  a  l)all  upon  the  earth,  he  invoked 
the   spirits  in  mumbling  inarticulate  tones ;  wliile  his  naked 


loo  The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent  11609 

aiiilitorv,   Miiiatti'd   on    the  ground    Ukv   ajx-s,   listened   in 

wonder  niul  awe.     Snddeidy.  the  l(»dj,'e  in.>ved,  rocking  with 

violence  to  and   fro,  l.y  the    ]po\ver   of   the   .sjiirits,  as  the 

Indians    tlioiight,  whih^    Charni'hiin    could   plainly  see   the 

tawny   list  (.f  the  niedicine-inan  shaking  the   ixiles.     They 

I't'gged  hini  to  kccj.  a  watchful  eye  on  the  peak  of  the  lodge, 

wlience  lire  and  sinuke  would  i.resently  issue;  bul  with  the 

•  •est  ellorts  of  his  vision,  he  disc(.veivd  none.     Meanwliili! 

tlie  nu'dicine-nian  was  seized  with  such  convulsions,  that, 

when  his   divination   was  over,  his    naked    hody   streamed 

with  jH-rspiralion.     In  huul,  clear  tones,  and  in  an  unknown 

tongue,   he  invoked  the    spirii,  who  was  understo<.d  to  he 

present  in  the  form  of  a  stone,  and  whose  feeble  and  sijueak- 

ing  accents  were  heard  at  intervals,  like  the  wail  of  a  young 

puppy.' 

In  this  manner  they  consulted  the  spirit— as  Chami.lain 
thinks,  the  Devil  — at  all  their  camps.  His  replies,  f<.r  the 
most  part,  seem  to  have  given  them  great  content;  yet  they 
took  other  measures,  of  which  the  military  advantages  were 
less  questionable.  The  principal  chief  gathered  bundles  of 
sticks,  and,  without  wasting  his  breath,  stuck  them  in  the 
earth  in  a  certain  order,  calling  each  by  the  name  of  some 
warrior,  a  few  taller  than  the  rest  representing  the  sub..r- 
dinate  chiefs.  Thus  was  indicated  the  ]M)sition  which  each 
was  to  hold  in  the  expected  battle.  All  gathered  round  and 
attentively  studied  the  sticks,  ranged  like  a  child's  wooden 

» Tliis  mo.Ie  of  .livination  w.-.s  universal  anions  the  Algonquin  tribes,  nn.l 
IS  not  extinct  to  tliis  .lay  among  their  niving  XortluMn  l.an.h.  Le  Jenne,  La- 
titan,  an.l  other  ..arly  Jesuit  writers,  deseribe  it  Mith  great  minuteness.  The 
former  (.Relation,  lfl3 1)  speaks  of  an  audaeions  eonjurer,  who,  having  invoked  the 
Manitou,  or  sjurit.  killed  him  with  a  hatehet.  To  all  appearance  he  was  a 
stone,  which,  however,  when  struck  with  ,h..  luuditt,  proved  to  be  full  of 
flesh  and  blood.     A  kindred  superstition  prevails  .among  the  Crow  Indians. 


i6o9i         Kxpedition  agriinst  the  Iroquois  loi 

.'^nlilifi's.  (tr  llu;  jiii'ci's  <>n  a  chossbonnl ;  then,  with  no  fur- 
ther insinulinn,  ihi'y  forinotl  their  ranks,  broke  them,  and 
n-foniied  thuiu  again  and  again  with  excellent  alacrity  and 
skill. 

Af^ain  the  canooa  advanced,  the  river  widening  as  they 
went.  (Jrcat  islands  ai>i>eait'd,  leagues  in  extent, —  Isle  Ix  la 
Mntte,  Long  Island,  (Jrande  Isle.  Channels  where  shi[« 
might  float  ami  l>road  reaches  of  water  .stretched  between 
them,  and  ('liami>lain  entered  the  lake  which  preserves  his 
name  to  posterity.  Cund»erland  Head  was  passed,  and  from 
the  opening  of  the  great  channel  between  (Jrande  Isle 
anil  the  main  ho  could  hM)k  forth  on  the  wilderness  sea. 
Kdged  witii  woods,  the  trancpiil  Hootl  spread  southward  be- 
yond the  sight.  Far  on  the  left  rose  the  forest  ridges  of  the 
(Jreen  Mountains,  and  on  the  rigl.«  the  Adirondacks,  haunts 
in  these  later  years  of  amateur  sportsmen  from  counting- 
roojns  or  (College  halls.  Then  the  Iroquois  made  them  their 
hunting-ground  ;  and  beyond,  in  the  valleys  of  the  Moliawk, 
the  Onondaga,  and  the  Genesee,  stretched  the  long  line  of 
their  five  cantons  and  palisaded  towns. 

At  night  they  encani7)ed  again.  The  scene  is  a  familiar 
one  to  many  a  tourist ;  and  perhaps,  standing  at  sun.set  on 
the  jieaceful  strand,  ('ham]ilain  saw  what  a  roving  student  of 
this  generation  has  setn  on  those  same  shores,  at  that  same 
hour:  the  glow  of  the  vanished  sun  behind  the  western 
mountains,  darklv  piled  in  mist  and  shadow  along  the  sky; 
near  at  hand,  the  dead  pine,  mighty  in  decay,  stretching  its 
ragged  arms  athwart  the  burning  heaven,  the  crow  perched 
on  its  top  like  an  image  carved  in  jet ;  and  aloft,  the  night- 
hawk,  circling  in  his  flight,  and,  with  a  strange  whirring 
sound,  diving  through  the  air  each  moment  for  the  insects 
he  makes  his  prey. 


I02 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


^■i 

1' 

H* 

ti 

■ 

1 

|i6og 

Tiu-  progress  cf  tin-  party  was  h, i„iii<r  .lan^erous.     They 

eliaiiged  tlieir  mode  of  advance,  aii.l  moved  oidy  in  tJie  nijrht. 
AH  day,  ll.ey  lay  (dose  in  tl,e  depth  of  the  forest,  sleeping, 
lounging,  smoking  tobaeeo  of  their  own  raising,  and  heguiling 
the  hours,  no  d„ul.t,  with  the  shallow  banter  and  (d)s<rne 
jesting  with  which  knots  of  Indians  are  wont  to  amuse  their 
leisure.     At    twilight  they   embarked  again,  ]iaddling  their 
cautious  way  till  the  eastern  sky  began  to  redden. "  Their 
goal  was  the  rocky  promontory  where  Fort  Tieonderoga  was 
long  afterward  built.     Thence,  they  would  jiass  the  outlet 
of  Lake  Ceorge,  and  launch  their  canoes  again  on  that  Como 
of  the  wilderness,  whose  waters,  limpi.l  as  a  fountain-head, 
stretched  far  southward  l)eiween  their  flanking  mountains.' 
Landing   at  the   future  site  of   Fort   William  lleiu-y,  they 
would   carry  their  canoes  through  the  forest  to   the'  rivJr 
Hudson,  and,  descending  it,  atta.-k  i.erhai.s  some  outlying 
twn  of  the  Mohawks.     In  the  next  century  this  chain  of 
lakes  and  rivers  became  the  grand  highway  of  savage  and 
civilized  war,  linke.l  to  memories  of  momentous  conflicts. 

The  allies  were  s].are<l  so  h.ng  a  progress.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  twenty-ninth  <.f  July,  after  pad.Uing  all  night, 
th(.y  hid  as  usual  in  the  forest  on  the  western  shore,  appar- 
ently between  Crown  I'oint  and  Tieonderoga.  The  warriors 
stretched  fhemselvesto  their  slund.ers,  and  Chamidain,  after 
walking  till  nine  ..r  ten  .Adock  through  the  surrounding 
woods,  returne.1  to  take  his  repose  <.n  a  i-ile  of  spruee-lnnighs. 
Sleeping,  he  dreamed  a  dream,  wherein  he  behehl  the  Iro.iuois 
drowning  in  the  lake;  and,  trying  to  rescue  them,  he  was 
told  by  his  Algon.piin  friends  that  they  were  good  f„r 
nothing,  and  ha.l  belter  be  left  to  their  fate".  For  some  time 
I-ast  he  had  been  beset  every  morning  by  his  superstitious 
allies,  eager  to  learn  about  liis  dreams;  and,  to  this  momejil, 


it '4   « 


i»: 


i6o9]  Expedition  against  the  Iroquois  103 

his  uiil)roken  slumbers  had  failed  to  furnish  the  desired 
prognostics.  The  announcement  of  this  auspic'-^;.-'  visiui. 
tilled  tlie  crowd  with  joy,  and  at  nightffdl  they  eiaharkcd.. 
flushed  with  anticipated  victories.^ 

It  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when,  near  a  ^  .•ojcc'dn^T? 
point  of  land,  which  was  probably  Ticonderoga,  they  descried 
dark  objects  in  motion  on  the  lake  before  them.  These  were 
a  flotilla  of  Iroc^uois  canoes,  heavier  and  slower  Lhan  theirs, 
for  they  were  made  of  oak  bark.'-^  Each  party  saw  the  f»ther, 
and  the  mingled  war-cries  pealed  over  the  darkened  water. 
The  Iroquois,  who  were  near  the  shore,  having  no  stomach 
for  an  aquatic  battle,  landed,  and,  making  night  hideous  with 
their  clamors,  Itegan  to  barricade  themselves.  ChamiJain 
could  see  them  in  the  woods,  laboring  like  beavers,  hacking 
down  trees  with  iron  axes  taken  from  the  Canadian  tribes  in 
war,  ami  with  stone  hatchets  of  their  own  making.  The 
allies  remained  on  the  lake,  a  bowshot  from  the  hostile  barri- 
eafle,  their  canoes  made  fast  together  by  poles  lashed  across. 
All  night  they  danced  with  as  much  vigor  as  the  frailty  of 
their  vessels  would  permit,  their  throats  making  amends  for 

*  The  power  of  dreams  among  Indians  in  their  primitive  condition  can 
searcely  be  over-estimated.  Among  the  ancient  Hurons  and  cognate  tribes, 
tlicy  were  the  universal  authority  and  oracle  ;  but  while  a  dreamer  of  reputa- 
tion had  unlimited  j)Ower,  the  dream  of  a  vnurirn  was  held  in  no  account, 
'"here  were  professed  interpreters  of  dreams.  Brebeuf,  RcL  dfs  Iliirnn.i,  117. 
A  man,  dreaming  that  he  had  killed  his  wife,  made  it  an  excuse  for  killing  her 
in  fact.  All  these  tribes,  including  the  Irofiuois,  had  a  stated  game  called 
Oiwiihira,  or  the  dreaming  game,  in  which  dreams  were  made  the  pretext  for 
tiie  wildest  extravagances.     See  Lafitau,  Charlevoix,  Sagard,  Hrebeuf,  etc. 

•  Champlain,  (1613,)  232.  Probably  a  mistake;  the  Iroquois  canoes  were 
usually  of  elm  bark.  The  jiaper-bireh  was  used  wherever  it  could  be  had,  be- 
ing incomparably  the  best  material.  All  the  tribes,  from  the  mouth  of  the 
ISaco  northward  and  eastward,  and  along  the  entire  northern  portion  of  the 
valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  CJreat  Lakes,  used  the  birch.  The  liest 
substitutes  were  elm  and  spruce.  The  birch  bark,  from  its  laminated  texture, 
could  be  peeled  at  any  time  ;  the  others  only  when  the  sap  was  in  motion. 


|i !   a 


104  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1609 

tlie  enforced  restraint  of  tlieir  linil).s.  It  was  agreed  (.n  Loth 
sides  that  the  tight  sliould  he  deferred  till  diiyl)reak;  but 
meanwhile  a  coninierce  of  abuse,  sarcasm,  menace,  and  boast- 
ing gave  unceasing  exercise  to  the  lungs  and  fancy  of  the 
c.)mbatants,-"nuKh,"  says  Champlain,  "lil^e  the  besiegers 
and  besieged  in  a  beleaguered  town." 

As  day  approached,  he  and  his  two  followers  put  on  the 
light  armor  of  the  time.  Cliamplain  w..re  the  doublet  and 
long  hose  then  in  vogue.  Over  the  doublet  he  buckled  on  a 
breastplate,  and  probably  a  back-piece,  while  his  tliighs  were 
protected  by  cuisses  of  steel,  and  his  liead  by  a  plumed 
casque.  Across  his  shoulder  Iiung  the  strap  of  his  bando- 
leer, or  ammuniti<m-box ;  at  his  side  was  his  sword,  and  in 
his  hand  his  ar(iuebuse.  Such  was  the  equipment  <.f  this 
ancient  Indian-tighter,  whose  exploits  date  eleven  years  be- 
fore tlie  landing  of  the  Puritans  at  Plymouth,  and  "sixty-six 
years  before  King  Philip's  War. 

Each  of  the  three  Frenchmen  was  in  a  separate  canoe, and, 
as  it  grew  light,  they  kept  themselves   hid(h'n,   either   by 
lying  at  the  bottom,  or  covering  themselves  witli  an  Indian 
robe.    The  canoes  approaclied  tlie  shore,  and  all  landed  with- 
out opposition  at  some  distance  from  tlic  Iroquois,  wliom 
they  presently  coul.l  see  filing  out  of  tlieir  barrica.le,  tall, 
strong  men.  some  two  Innidred  in  nund)er,  the  l)oldest  and 
fiercest  warriors  of  Xorth  Ameri.'a.     They  a.lvan.-ed  through 
the  forest  with  a  steadiness  which  excite.l  the  admiration  of 
Champlain.     Among  them  could  be  seen  three  cliiefs,  made 
conspicuous  by  their  tall  plumes.    Some  bore  shields  of  wood 
and  hide,  and  some  were  covered  with  a  kind  of  armor  made 
of  tough  twigs  interlaced  witli  a  vegetable  fibre  su].iK.sed  by 
Champlain  to  be  cotton. 

The  allies,  growing  anxious,  called  with  loud  cries  for  their 


"  ■J!a.''y'.!t-i''.-j-.'gEy?r'*T'''""?*' 


ilHI 


.609]         Expedition  against  the  Iroq  lois  105 

cliampion,  and  opened  their  ranks  that  he  might  pass  to  the 
front.     He  did  so,  ."tuI,  advancing  before  his  red  companions 
in  arms,  stood  revealed  to  the  gaze  of  the  Iroquois,  -  '  ,0,  be- 
hokling  the  warlike  apparition  in  their  path,  stared  in  mute 
amazement.     "  I  looked  at  them,"  says  Champlain,  "  and  they 
l()t)ked  at  me.    When  1  saw  them  getting  ready  to  slioot  their 
arrows  at  us,  I  levelled  my  arcpiebuse,  wliich  I  had  loaded 
with  four  balls,  and  aimed  straight  at  one  of  the  three  chiefs. 
Tlie  shut  lirought  down  two,  and  wounded  another.    Un  this, 
our  Indians  set  up  such  a  yelling  that  one  could  not  have 
heard  a  thuniler-clap,  and  all  the  while  the  arrows  Hew  thick 
on  both  sides.     The  Iruijuois  were  greatly  astonished  and 
friglitened  to  see  two  of  their  men  killed  so  quickly,  in  spite 
of  their  arrow-proof  armor.     As  I  was  reloading,  one  of  my 
companions  fired  a  shot  from  the  wo(xls,  which  so  increased 
their  astcniishment  that,  seeing  their  chiefs  dead,  they  aban- 
doned the  Held  and  tied  into  the  depth  of  the  forest."     The 
allies  dashed  after  them.     Some  of  the  Imquois  were  killed, 
and  more  were  taken.     Camp,  canoes,  provisions,  all  were 
abandoned,  and  many  weajions   tiung  down  iu   the   panic 
flight.     The  victorv  was  complete. 

At  niglit,  tlu!  vict(jrs  led  out  one  of  the  prisoners,  told  him 
that  he  was  to  die  by  fire,  and  ordered  him  to  sing  his  death- 
song,  if  he  dared.  Then  they  began  the  torture,  and  pres- 
ently scalped  their  victim  alive,  when  Chanqiluin,  sickening 
at  the  sight,  begged  leave  to  shoot  him.  They  refused,  and 
he  tinned  away  in  anger  and  disgust ;  on  which  they  called 
him  back  and  told  him  to  do  as  he  pleased.  He  turned  again 
and  a  shot  from  his  anpiebuse  put  the  wretch  out  of  miserj'. 
The  scene  tiUed  him  with  hi»rror ;  but,  a  few  months  later, 
on  the  Vlace  de  la  Grbve  at  Paris,  he  miglit  have  witnessed 
tortures  equally  revolting  and  equally  vindictive,  inflicted  on 


I 


io6  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1609 

the  ref,nci(le  Itavaillac  l)y  the  sentence  of  grave  and  learned 
judges. 

The  allies  made  a  prompt  retreat  from  the  scene  of  tlieir 
triumph.  Three  or  four  days  Itrought  them  to  the  moutli  of 
the  liichelieu.  Here  they  sej.arated  ;  the  Hurons  and  Al- 
gonquins  made  for  the  Ottawa,  tlieir  liomeward  route,  each 
with  a  share  of  prisoners  f(jr  future  torments.  At  parting 
they  invited  Clianii)lain  to  visit  their  towns,  and  aid  them 
again  in  their  wars,  an  invitation  wliidi  this  jialadin  of  the 
woods  failed  not  to  accept. 

The  companions  now  remaining  to  him  were  tlie  ]\Ion- 
tagnais.  In  their  camp  on  the  Kichelicti,  one  of  them  dreamed 
lliat  a  war  ])arty  of  Inxjuois  was  chise  upon  them  ;  on  wliich, 
in  a  torrent  of  rain,  they  left  their  huts,  paddled  in  dismay 
to  the  islands  above  the  Lake  of  St.  I'eter,  and  hid  them- 
selves all  night  in  tlie  rushes.  In  the  morning,  they  took 
heart,  emerged  from  their  hiding-places,  descended  to  (^lebec, 
and  went  thence  to  Tatloussac,  wliither  Champlain  accom- 
panied them.  Here  the  scpiaws  swam  out  to  the  canoes  to 
receive  the  heads  of  the  dead  Iro.piois,  and,  hanging  them 
fr<»m  their  necks,  danced  in  triumj.h  along  the  shore.  One 
of  the  heads  and  a  joir  of  arms  were  then  bestowed  on 
Cliampla-n,  — tcjucliing  memorials  of  gratitude,  which,  how- 
ever, he  was  by  no  means  to  keep  for  himself,  but  to  present 
to  the  king. 

Thus  ,lid  New  France  msh  into  collision  with  the  re- 
doubted warriors  of  the  Five  Nations.  Here  was  the  begin- 
ning, and  in  some  measure  doubtless  tlie  cause,  of  a  long 
suite  of  murderous  conflicts,  bearing  havoc  and  flame  to  gen- 
erations yet  unborn.  Champlain  liad  invaded  tlie  tiger's  den  ; 
and  now,  in  smothered  fury,  the  patient  savage  would  lie 
biding  his  Jay  of  blood. 


■■il 


i6i2j         Search  for  a  Route  to  the  Indies         107 


CIIAMrLAlX'S   SKAlfCII   FOR  A    KOUTE   TO 
THE   INDIES  1 

[Ix  If)  10  a  young  Kioiich  adventurer,  Nicolas  de  Vignau, 
oH'ered  to  join  some  trading  Indians  on  tluir  homeward 
journey,  and  winter  among  them.  He  embarked  in  the 
Algonijuin  canoes,  passed  up  the  Ottawa,  and  was  seen  uo 
more  for  a  twelvemonth.  —  El».] 

In  1012  he  re-ap]ieared  in  I*aris,  bringing  a  tale  of 
Wonders;  for,  says  Champhiin,  "  he  v»'as  the  most  impudent 
liar  that  has  been  seen  for  many  a  da}."  He  averred  tliat 
at  tlie  sources  of  the  Ottawa  he  had  found  a  great  lake; 
that  he  had  crossed  it,  and  discovered  a  river  flowing  north- 
waid ;  that  he  liad  descended  this  river,  and  reached  the 
sliores  of  the  sea;  that  here  he  had  seen  the  wreck  of 
an  English  ship,  whose  crew,  escaping  to  land,  had  been 
killed  by  the  Indians;  and  that  this  sea  was  distant  from 
Abjntreal  only  seventeen  days  by  canoe.  The  clearness, 
consistency,  and  ap]>arent  simplicity  of  his  story  deceived 
Champlain,  who  had  heard  of  a  voyage  of  the  English 
to  the  nortliern  seas,  coupk-d  with  rumors  of  w^reck  and 
disaster,^  and  was  thus  confirmed  in  his  helief  of  Vignau's 
honcjty.  The  Marechal  de  Urissac,  the  Piesident  Jeannin, 
and  other  persons  of  eminence  about  the  court,  greatly  in- 

1  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World.     Samuel  de  Chnniplain,  Ch.  XII. 
'   Kvid>'!itly  the  V'lyaw  of  Henry  Mivlsoti  in  1fi10-1'2,  when  that  navigator, 
after  discovering  Hudson's  Strait,  lust  his  life  through  a  mutiny. 


ECl 


loS  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1613 

terested  by  these  dexterous  fabiicatiuus,  urged  Champlain  to 
follow  up  without  delay  a  discovery  which  promised  results 
so  important ;  while  he,  with  the  PaciHe,  Japau,  Chiua,  the 
Spice  Islands,  and  India  stretching  in  flattering  vista  before 
his  fancy,  entered  v.-ith  eagerness  on  the  chase  (jf  this  illu- 
sion.    Early  in  the  spring  of   1013  the  unwearied  voyager 
crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  sailed  up  the  St.  Lawrence.     On 
Monday,  the  twenty-sevenlli   of  May,  l\e  left  the  island  of 
St.  Helen,  opposite  Montreal,  wiili   four    Kn-nduuen,  one  of 
wlioiu  was  Nicolas  de  Vignau,  and  one   Indian,  in  two  small 
canoes.     They  passed  the  swift  current  at  St.  .Vnn's,  crossed 
the  Lake  of  Two  Mountain-*,  and  advancetl  up  the  Ottawa 
till  the  rajiids  of  Caiillon  and  llie  I-ong  Saut  checked  their 
course.     So  dense  and  tangled  was  the  forest,  that  they  were 
forced  to  remain  in  the  bed  of  the  river,  trailing  tlieir  canoes 
along  the  bank  with  cords,  or   pushing  them  by  main  force 
up  the  current,     ("hamplain's  foot  slipped  ;    lie  fell  in  the 
ra])ids,  two  boulders,  against  which  he  braced  himself,  saving 
him   from  being  swept  down,  while  the  cord  of  the  canoe, 
twisted  round  his  hand,  nearly  severed  it.     At  length  they 
reached  smoother  water,  and  jiresently  met  fifteen  canoes  of 
friendly  Indians.     Champlain  gave  them  the  most  awkward 
of  his  Frenchmen,  raid  took  one  of  their  nundier  in  return, 
—  an  exchange  greatly  to  his  profit. 

All  day  they  jilied  theiv  paildles,  and  when  night  came 
they  made  their  camjt-lire  in  the  forest.  He  who  now,  when 
two  centuries  and  a  half  are  jiassed.  would  see  the  evening 
bivouac  of  Champlain,  has  but  to  encam)),  with  Indian 
guides,  on  the  ujiper  waters  of  this  same  Ottawa,  t)r  on  the 
borders  of  some  lonely  river  of  New  Urunswick  or  of  Maine. 

Day  dawned.  The  east  glowed  with  tranciuil  lire,  that 
pierced,  with  eyes  of  Hame,  the   tir-lrees  whose  jagged  tops 


i6i3]         Search  for  a  Route  to  the  Indies         109 

stood  drawn  in  black  against  the  burning  heaven.  Beneath 
the  glossy  river  slept  in  shadow,  or  spread  far  and  wide  in 
sheets  of  burnished  bronze;  and  the  white  moon,  paling  in 
the  face  of  day,  hung  like  a  disk  of  silver  in  the  western  sky. 
Now,  a  fervid  light  touched  the  dead  top  of  the  hemlock, 
and,  creeping  downward,  bathed  the  mossy  beard  of  the 
patriarchal  cedar,  unstined  in  the  breathless  air.  Now,  a 
fiercer  spark  beamed  from  the  east ;  and  now,  half  risen  on 
tlie  sight,  a  dome  of  crimson  tire,  the  sun  blazed  with  lloods 
of  radiance  across  the  awakened  wilderness. 

The  canoes  were  launched  again,  and  the  voyagers  held 
their  course.  Soon  the  still  surface  was  decked  with  spots  of 
foam ;  islets  of  froth  floated  by,  tokens  of  some  great  con- 
vulsion. Then,  on  their  left,  the  falling  curtain  of  the 
Ivideau  shone  like  silver  betwixt  its  bordering  woods,  and  in 
front,  white  as  a  snow-drift,  the  cataracts  of  the  Chaudifere 
barred  their  way.  They  saw  the  unbridled  river  careering 
down  its  sheeted  rocks,  foaming  in  unfathomed  chasms, 
wearying  the  solitude  with  the  hoarse  outcry  of  its  agony 
and  rage. 

On  the  brink  of  the  rocky  basin  where  the  plung'ng 
torrent  boiled  like  a  caldron,  and  pvffs  of  spray  sprang  out 
from  its  concussion  like  smoke  from  the  throat  of  a  cannon, 
Cliauipiain's  two  Indians  took  their  stand,  and,  with  a  loud 
invocation,  threw  tobacco  into  the  foam,  an  offering  to  the 
local  spirit,  the  Manitou  of  the  cataract.^ 


4 


*  An  invariable  custom  with  tho  upper  Indians  on  passing  this  place. 
When  many  were  present,  it  was  attended  with  solemn  ilances  and  speeches,  a 
contribution  of  tobacco  being  first  taken  on  a  dish.  It  was  tiiought  to  insure 
a  safe  voyage  ;  but  was  often  t-n  occasion  of  disaster,  since  hostile  war  par- 
ties, lying  in  ambush  at  the  spot,  would  surprise  and  kill  the  votaries  of  the 
Maiiilou  ill  the  Very  presence  of  tiioir  guardinn.  It  is  on  iho  return  voyage 
that  Chainplain  particularly  describes  the  dacritice. 


I  lo  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1613 

They  slioiildeictl  llieir  laiioos  c.vir  the  rocks,  and  thi<n.','h 
the  woods;  ihfii  launched  ihem  agaiu,  and,  wilh  toil  and 
struggle,  uiade  their  aui[ilubious  way,  pushing,  ilragging,  lift- 
ing, padilling,  shoving  with  poles  ;  till,  when  the  evenhigsun 
poured  its  level  rays  across  the  ([uiet  Lake  of  the  Chaudi^re, 
they  landed,  and  made  their  camp  on  the  verge  of  a  woody 

island. 

Day  by  day  brouglit  a  renewal  of  their  toils.  Hour  by 
hour,  they  moved  prosperously  up  the  long  windings  of  the 
solitary  stream;  then,  in  (piick  sucjession,  rapid  followed 
rapid,  till  the  bod  of  the  Ultawa  seamed  a  slope  of  foam. 
Now,  like  a  wall  bristling  at  the  top  with  woody  islets,  the 
Falls  of  the  Chats  faced  tliem  witli  the  sheer  plunge  of 
their  sixteen  cataracts.  Now  they  glided  beneath  over- 
hanguig  clitl's,  where,  seeing  but  unseen,  the  crouched  wild- 
cat eyed  them  from  the  thicket ;  n<)w  through  the  maze  of 
water-girded  rocks,  which  the  while  cedar  and  the  spruce 
clasped  with  serpent-like  roots,  or  among  islands  where  old 
hemlocks  darkened  the  water  witli  dee]i  green  shadow.  Here, 
too,  the  rock-maple  reared  its  verdant  masses,  the  heech 
its  glistening  leaves  and  clean,  smooth  stem,  and  behind, 
stiff  and  sombre,  rose  the  lialsam-fir.  Here,  in  the  tortuous 
channels,  the  muskrat  swam  and  plunged,  and  the  splashing 
wild  duck  dived  lienealh  the  alders  or  among  the  red 
and  jiiatted  roots  of  thirsty  water-willows.  Aloft,  the 
white  ](ine  towered  above  a  sea  of  verdure;  old  fir-trees, 
Ijoary  and  grim,  shaggy  with  pendent  mosses,  leaned  above 
the  stream,  and  l-encath.  dead  and  submerged,  some  fallen 
oak  thrust  from  the  current  its  bare,  bleached  limbs,  like  the 
.skeleton  of  a  drowned  giant.  In  tlie  weedy  cove  .stood  the 
inodsp,  ju'ck-dei>p  in  w.ater  to  t'sc.Tpe  the  Hies,  w.ading  shore- 
wanl,  with  glistening  sides,  as  the  canoes  drew  near,  shaking 


i6«3l 


Search  for  a  Route  to  the  Indies         m 


his  l)road  antlers  aii'  wiithmg  his  hideous  nostril,  as  with 
clunisy  trot  he  vanished  in  the  woods. 

In  these  ancient  wilds,  to  wliose  ever  verdant  antiquity 
the  pyramids  are  young  and  Niiieveh  a  niuslirooui  of  yester- 
day ;  where  the  sage  wanderer  of  the  t)dyssey,  could  he  have 
urged  his  pilgrimage  so  far,  would  have  surve}  ed  the  same 
grand  and  stern  monotony,  the  same  dark  sweep  of  melan- 
choly wootls ;  —  here,  while  New  England  was  a  solitude, 
and  the  settlers  of  Virginia  scarcely  dared  venture  inland 
beyond  the  sound  of  a  cannon-shot,  Champlain  was  planting 
on  shores  and  islands  the  emblems  of  his  faith.  Of  the  pio- 
neers of  the  North  American  forests,  his  name  stands  fore- 
most on  the  list.  It  was  he  who  struck  the  deepest  and 
boldest  strokes  into  the  heart  of  their  pristine  barbarism. 
At  Chantilly,  at  Fontainebleau,  at  Paris,  in  the  cabinets  of 
princes  and  of  royalty  itself,  mingling  with  the  proud  vanities 
of  the  court ;  then  lost  from  sight  in  the  depths  of  Canada, 
the  companion  of  savages,  sharer  of  their  toils,  privations, 
and  battles,  more  hardy,  patient,  and  bold  than  they ; —  such, 
for  successive  years,  were  the  alternations  of  this  man's  life. 

[Arrived  among  the  Ottawas  Champlain  urged  ihem  to  give 
him  canoes  that  he  might  pursue  his  journey  into  the  coun- 
try of  the  Nipissings,  but  the  canoes  were  denied.  —  En.] 

With  a  troubled  mind  he  liastened  again  to  the  hall  of 
council,  and  addressed  the  naked  senate  in  terms  better 
suited  to  his  exigencies  than  to  their  dignity. 

•'  I  thought  you  were  men  ;  I  thought  you  would  hold  fast 
to  your  word :  but  I  find  you  children,  without  truth.  You 
call  yourselves  my  friends,  yet  you  break  faith  with  me. 
Still  I  would  not  incommode  you ;  and  if  you  cannot  give 
me  four  canoof,  two  will  perve." 

The  burden  of  the  reply  was,  rapids,  rocks,  cataracts,  and 


-il. 


'ff. 


n 


1 1 2  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1613 

the  wickedness  of  the  N  iiiissiiifrs.     "  We  will  not  give  you 
the  canoes,  l)ecau.se  we  are  afraid  of  losing  you,"  they  said. 

"This    young    man,"    rejoined    C'lianiplain,    pointing    to 

Vignau,  who  sat  by  his  side,  "  has  been  to  their  country,  and 

did  not  find  the  road  or  the  people  so  bad  as  you  have  6aid." 

"  Nicolas,"  demanded  Tessouat,  "  did  you  say  that  you  had 

been  to  the  Nipissings  ?" 

The  impostor  sat  mute  for  a  time,  and  then  replied,  "  Yes, 
I  have  been  there." 

Hereupon  an  outcry  broke  from  the  assenddy,  and  they 
turned  their  eyes  on  him  askance,  "  as  if,"  says  Cliamplain, 
"  they  woidd  have  torn  and  eaten  him." 

"You  are  a  liar,"  returned  the  iniccremonious  host;  "you 
know  very  well  that  you  slept  here  among  my  cl  '^'en  every 
night,  and  got  up  again  every  morning;  and  if  y> .-  ever  went 
to  the  Nipissings,  it  must  have  been  when  you  were  asleep. 
How  can  you  be  so  impudent  as  to  lie  to  your  chief,  and  so 
wicked  as  to  risk  his  life  among  so  many  dangers  ?  He 
ought  to  kill  you  witli  toriures  worse  than  those  with  which 
we  kill  our  enemies." 

Champlain  luged  him  to  reply,  but  he  sat  motionless  and 
dundx  Then  he  led  him  from  the  cabin,  and  conjured  him 
to  declare  if  in  truth  he  had  seen  this  sea  of  the  north. 
Vignau,  with  oaths,  attirmed  that  all  he  had  said  was  true. 
Returning  to  the  council,  Champlain  repeated  the  impostor's 
story:  how  he  had  seen  the  sea,  the  wreck  of  an  Englisli 
ship,  the  heads  of  eighty  Englishmen,  and  an  English  boy, 
prisoner  among  tlie  Indians. 

At  this,  an  outcry  rose  louder  than  before,  and  the  Indians 
turned  in  ire  \\\m\  Yignau. 

"  Von  are  n  liar."  "  Wliich  way  did  you  go?"  "  By  what 
rivers  ? "     "  liy  what  lakes  i "     "  Who  went  with  you  ? " 


i6i3]  Search  fur  a  Route  to  the  Indies  113 

Vigiiau  Iiail  iiukK'  u  map  tif  his  travels,  whit^h  ("liain- 
plain  now  jinxluceil,  tlt'siiiiijj  liiiii  l<>  cxidain  il  to  his  cjik  • 
tiuners  ;  Iml  his  ussun'iice  failotl  him,  ami  lie  cnnhi  mil  utter 
a  Wind. 

Chamiiiain  was  j,ni'ally  a^'italftl.  Ilis  lioart  was  in  thu 
eiileijirise ;  his  rt'initalinn  was  in  a  moasun-  at  .stake;  an-l 
now,  wli' n  ho  thi)iio;lii  his  tiiumpli  so  near,  he  shrank  fi(»in 
lit*lievin<^  himsfif  lin'  si'ort  nf  an  iminnlent  impostor.  T\w 
council  l»n)keup;  the  Indians  dispk-ast'd  ami  moody,  ami  he, 
on  his  part,  full  of  anxieties  and  «louhts. 

"  I  failed  Vi^naii  to  me  in  presemi'  of  his  companinns," 
hosay.s.  "I  told  him  that  the  time  for  doceivinj?  me  was 
ended  ;  that  he  nui.st  tell  me  whether  or  not  he  had  really 
seen  the  things  he  had  told  of;  that  1  had  forj,'otten  the 
jtast,  hut  that,  if  he  continueil  to  mislead  me,  I  would  ha\e 
him  hanged  without  mercy." 

Vignau  pondered  for  a  moment ;  then  fell  on  his  knee-s, 
owned  his  treachery,  and  begged  forgiveness.  Champlain 
broke  into  a  rago,  and,  unable,  as  he  says,  to  endure  the  sight 
of  him,  ordered  him  from  his  presence,  and  sent  the  inter- 
preter after  him  to  make  further  examination.  Vanity,  the 
love  of  notoriety,  and  the  hojie  of  reward,  seem  to  have  been 
his  inducements ;  for  lie  had  in  fact  spent  a  quiet  winter  in 
Tessoual's  cabin,  liis  nearest  approach  to  the  northern  sea; 
and  he  had  ilattered  himself  that  he  might  escape  the  neces- 
sity of  giuding  his  commander  to  this  pretended  discovery. 
The  Indians  were  somewhat  exultant.  "  WTiy  did  you  not 
listen  to  chiefs  and  warriors,  instead  of  believing  the  lies  of 
this  fellow  ?"  And  they  ccmnselled  Champlain  to  have  him 
killed  cit  once,  adding,  "  (rive  him  to  us,  and  we  promise  you 
that  he  shall  never  lie  again." 


'H; 


114  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1615 

[Advent  of  the  Recollets. —  In  iho  iiiti'ival  liL-lwi't'ii  ltli:> 
aodhisduulh  in  IG;!'*,  (Jliuinphiin  was  imwrarictl  in  liis  t'lVuiis 
tin  bi'lialf  of  tlu'  .stnipjiliiij^  rulnny.  To  U'lain  tint  syinpalliy 
and  aid  of  kinj^  and  nobk's,  ho  made  alniosi  yi-arly  tlif  ardu- 
ous voyage  to  FmiKje.  In  his  tunirrn  for  ihc  siiirilual  wel- 
fare of  the  ('(dony  lie  addre>?-ed  hinisidf  to  a  convent  of 
IJecoUeL  friars,  a  luanrli  of  the  ^^reat  Fram^-scan  order, 
founded  early  in  the  thirteenth  eenlury  by  St.  Franei.s  of 
Assisi.  Four  of  tliesf  friars  wt're  named  for  tht;  mission  in 
Ni'w    Frame,   ami   arrived  at  (i>uel)ec   at  the  end  of    May, 

itii:.. 

"  Their  lir>l  eare,"  says  Parkman,  "  was  lo  chnost'  a  site  for 
their  convent,  near  the  fortilied  dwellings  and  storehouses 
IniiU  I'y  Chamiilain.'  This  done,  they  made  an  altar,  and 
celebrated  the  tirsl  mass  ever  said  in  Canada.  I>olbeau  was 
the  othcialing  jMiest;  all  New  rrance  kntclcd  on  the  baro 
earth  around  him,  and  cannon  from  the  shi|>  and  the  ram- 
parts haileil  the  mystic  rite.  Then,  in  imitation  of  the 
Ajiosiles,  they  took  counsel  together,  and  assigned  to  eai'li 
his  ]irovince  in  the  vast  field  of  their  mission:  to  Le  Caron, 
the  llurons,  and  to  Dolljeau,  the  Moiitagnais  ;  while  Jamay 
and  I)u  riessis  were  to  remain  for  the  present  near  Quebec." 

The  Indians,  however,  were  more  eager  for  temporal  than 
for  s[tiritual  succour,  and  beset  Champlain  with  clamors  for 
aid  against  the  Inupiois.  In  a  rash  moment,  though  in  pm- 
suance  of  a  delilierate  policy,  Champlain  assented.  His  aim 
was  to  bind  the  northern  tribes  in  a  bond  of  self-inleiest,  and 
make  them  entirely  dependent  u^xtn  French  aid.  v.'-  j  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  of  Iro(piois  reprisals  was  the  price  the 
colony  paid  for  this  misguided  ^Hjlicy.  —  Eo.] 

*  Pioueei's  of  Fiance  in  llie  Xcrt  Wurlil.      Saiiiuul  du  Cliiiiinplaiii,  Ch.  Xlll, 


I6i5i 


Discovery  of  Lake  Huron 


»>5 


DISCI )VKKY   (»K    I.AKI'   Hi:Ui»N» 

The  chiefs  an.l  svaiiiurs  im-t  in  cunril,—  Al^j-.n.iuins  of  the 
Ottawa,  aud  llun.ns  fiuiu  tl.o  Lunlers  of  the  gmit   l-n-.li- 
Water  Sea.     Chau.i-lai.i  i.roiniso.l  tc  juin  tlu'in  with  all  iho 
men  at  his  con.nuuul,  while  they,  i.n  their  i«rt,  were  io  ...as- 
ter without  delay  twenty-Jive  hu..d.e.l  wuniors  fur  an  n- 
road    into  the  country  of    the    l.o.n.uis.     lie  .i.s.-cnde.l  at 
once  to  guehec  for  needful  i-repaiatiou  ;  hut  when,  after  a 
short  delay,  he  returned  to  Aloi.lreul.he  f..und.t.>  his  .•ha;,nin, 
a  solitude!     The  wild  coneourse  hal  vanished;  noihing  re- 
mained hut  the  skeleton  prdes  of  their  huts,  the  smoke  of 
their  tires,  an.l  the  lefuse  of  their  eneamimients.     Impatient 
at  his  delay,  they  had  set  out  for  their  villages,  and  with 
them  had  gone  Father  .I<»se])h  le  Caroii. 

Twelve  Frenchmen,  well  arn.ed.  had  attended  him.  Sum- 
mer was  at  its  height,  a.id  as  his  canoe  stole  ah.ng  the  hosom 
of  the  glassy  river,  and  he  ga/ed  al.out  him  on  the  tawny 
multitude  whose  fragile  craft  cove.cd  the  wi.tcr  like  swarn.s 
of  glidmg  insects,  he  th.mghl,  perhaps,  of  his  whitewashed 
cell  in  the  convent  of  IJrouage,  of  his  hook,  his  table,  his 
rosary,  and  all  the  narrow  routine  of  that  familiar  life  from 
which  he  had  awakened  to  contrasts  so  startling.  That  his 
progress  up  the  Ottawa  was  far  from  heing  an  excursion  of 
pleasure  is  attested  by  his  letters,  fragments  of  which  have 
come  down  to  us. 

1  ri^nrrrs  of  France  in  the   Nfiw  World.     Samuel  de  Champlain,  Ch. 
XIII. 


vMV^n 


ii6  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1615 

"  It  would  be  liiuil  ti)  tfll  ynii,"  he  writes  to  a  friend,  "  liow 
tired  I  was  with  jiaddliiig  all  day,  with  all  luy  strength, 
among  the  Indians ;  wading  tlie  rivers  a  hundred  times  and 
more,  through  the  mud  and  over  the  shai'ii  rocks  that  cut  my 
feet;  carrying  the  canoe  and  luggage  through  the  woods  to 
avoid  the  rapii'  and  frightful  cataracts;  and  half  starved  all 
the  while,  for  we  had  notliiug  to  eat  hut  a  little  sagamite,  a 
sort  of  porridge  of  water  and  pounded  maize,  of  which  they 


J| 


V\\ 


h 


■-  i.i^'*  ipissln^f 


iS'v^- 


^*^^^    ^V^  Vtf^ 


ROUTE  OF  s^t 

CHAMPLAf 

**Cf^^pl^,n%  <:J\ 


gave  us  a  very  small  allowance  every  morning  and  night. 
l>ut  I  must  needs  tell  you  what  ahundant  consolatit)n  I 
found  under  all  my  tmuhles;  for  when  one  sees  so  many  in- 
fidels needing  nothing  Imt  a  drop  of  water  to  make  them 
children  of  (!o(l,  one  feels  an  inexpressible  ardor  to  labor  for 
their  conversion,  anil  saeriHce  to  it  one's  repose  and  life." 

While  tluough  tril)ulations  like  these  Le  Caron  made  his 
way  towards  the  scene  of  his  apostleship,  Chanijilain  was 
following   on   his   track.     With   two  canoes,   ten   Indians, 


J 


1 


i6i5]  Discovery  of  Lake  Huron  ii7 

feienne  BvxiU  his  interpreter,  and  another  Frenchman,  he 
pushed  up  the  Ottawa  till  he  reaehed  the  Algonquin  villages 
which  had  formed  the  term  of  his  former  journeying.    He 
passed  the  two  lakes  of  the  Allumettes ;  and  now,  for  twenty 
miles,  the  river  stretched  before  him,  straiglit  as  the  bee  can 
fly,  deep,  narrow,  and  black,  between  its  mountain  shores. 
He  passed  the  rapids  of  the  Joachims  and  the  Caribou,  the 
Ilocher  Capitaine,  and  the  Deux   Riviferes,  and  reached  at 
length  the  tributary  waters  of  the  Mattawan.     He  turned 
to  the  left,  ascended  this  little  stream  forty  miles  or  more, 
and,  crossing  a  portage  track,  well  trodden,  reached  the  mar- 
gin of   Lake  Nipissing.     The  canoes  were  launched  again, 
and  glided  by  leafy  shores  and  verdant  islands  till  at  length 
appeared  signs  of  human  life  and  clusters  of  bark  lodges, 
half  hidden  in  the  vastness  of  the  woods.     It  was  the  village 
of  an  Algonquin  band,  called  the   Nipissings,  —  a  race  so 
beset  with  spirits,  infested  by  demons,  and  abounding  in 
magicians,  that  the  Jesuits  afterwards  stigmatized  them  as 
"  the  Sorcerers."     In  this  questionable  company  Champlain 
spent  two  days,  feasted   on   fish,  deer,  and   bears.     Then, 
descending  to  the  outlet  of  the  lake,  he  steered  his  canoes 
westward  down  the  current  of  French  River. 

Days  passed,  and  no  sign  of  man  enlivened  the  rocky 
desolation.  Hunger  was  pressing  them  hard,  for  the  ten 
gluttonous  Indians  had  devoured  already  nearly  all  their 
provision  for  the  voyage,  and  they  were  forced  to  subsist  on 
the  blueberries  and  wild  raspberries  that  grew  abundantly  in 
the  meagie  soil,  when  suddenly  they  encountered  a  troop  of 
three  hundred  savages,  whom,  from  their  strange  and  startling 
mode  of  wearing  their  hair,  Champlain  named  the  Chcveux 
lielcirs.  "  Not  one  of  our  courtiers,"  he  says, "takes  so  much 
pains  in  dressmg  his  locks."    Here,  however,  their  care  of 


■■■ 


ii 


I  I 

%  !  I 

■\  I 

i  '{ 


irsi 


ii8  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1615 

the  toilet  ended;  for,  tliouf^h  tattooed  on  various  ])arts  of  the 
body,  painted,  and  armed  with  hows,  arnnvs,  and  shields  of 
bison-hide,  they  wore  no  clothinjj  whatever.  Savage  as  was 
their  aspect,  they  were  busied  ui  the  iiacitic  task  of  gathering 
blueberries  for  their  winter  store.  Their  demeanor  was 
friendly ;  and  from  them  the  voyager  learned  that  the  great 
lake  of  the  Ilurons  was  elose  at  liand.^ 

Now,  far  ahmg  the  western  sky  was  traced  the  watery 
line  of  that  inland  ocean,  and,  tirst  of  white  men  except  the 
Friar  Le  Caron,  Chami)lain  beheld  the  "  Mer  Douce,"  the 
Fresh-Water  Sea  of  the  Ilurons.  llefore  him,  too  far  for 
sight,  lay  the  spirit-haunted  Manitoualins,  and,  soutliward, 
spread  the  vast  bosom  of  the  Georgian  Hay.  For  more  than 
a  hundred  miles,  his  course  was  along  its  eastern  shores, 
among  islets  countless  as  the  sea-sands,  —  an  archipehigo  of 
rocks  worn  for  ages  by  the  wash  of  waves,  lie  crossed  l>yng 
Inlet,  Franklin  Inlet,  Parry  Sound,  and  the  wider  bay  of 
Matchedash,  and  seems  to  have  landed  at  the  inlet  now 
called  Thunder  I>ay,  at  the  entrance  of  the  Bay  of  Matche- 
dash, and  a  little  west  of  the  Harbor  of  IVnetanguishine. 

An  Indian  trail  led  inland,  through  woods  and  thickets, 
across  broad  meadows,  over  brooks,  and  ah)ng  the  skirts  of 
green  acclivities.  To  the  eye  of  Champlain,  accustomed  to 
the  desolation  he  had  left  behind,  it  seemed  a  land  of  beauty 
and  abundance.  He  reached  at  last  a  broad  opening  in  the 
forest,  with  fields  of  maize,  pumpkins  ripening  in  the  sun, 
patches  of  sunflowers,  from  the  seeds  of  wliich  the  Indians 
made  hair-oil,  and,  in  the  midst,  the  Huron  town  of  Otouacha. 
In  all  essential  points,  it  resembled  that  which  Cartier,  eighty 

•  These  saviifjes  belonjjed  to  a  iinmcrnus  Algonquin  tiil)c  who  ocoupied  a 
district  west  ami  south'vest  of  the  Nottawassaga  Bay  of  Lake  Huron,  within 
the  modern  counties  of  Bruce  and  Grey. 


,615]  Discovery  of  Lake  Huron  119 

years  before,  had  seen  at  Montreal :  the  same  triple  palisade 
of  cn.ssed  and  intersecting  trunks,  and  the  same  long  lodges 
of  bark,  each  containing  several  families.  Here,  within  an 
area  of  thirty  or  forty  miles,  was  the  seat  of  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  savage  communities  on  the  continent.  By  the 
Indian  standard,  it  was  a  mighty  nation ;  yet  the  entire 
Hurfni  population  did  not  exceed  that  of  a  third  or  fourth 
class  American  city.^ 

To  the  south  and  southeast  lay  other  tribes  of  kindred  race 
and  tongue,  all  stationary,  all  tillers  of  the  soil,  and  all  in  a 
state  of  social  advancement  when  compared  with  the  roving 
bands  of  Eastern  Canada:  the  Neutral  Nation «  west  of  the 
Niagara,  and  the  Eries  and  Andastes  in  Western  New  York 
and  Pennsylvania  ;  while  from  the  Genesee  eastward  to  the 
Hudson  lay  the  banded  tribes  of  the  Iroquois,  leading  mem- 
bers of  this  potent  family,  deadly  foes  of  their  kindred,  and 
at  last  their  destroyers. 

[Accompanied  by  his  dasky  allies,  Champlain  portaged 
to  Uke  Couchichiiig;  passing  thence  into  I.ake  Simcoe  he 
ascended  the  Talbot  Kiver,  and  made  his  way  from  the 
headquarters  of  the  Kiver  -^rent  to  Lake  Ontario.  He 
crossed  the  lake  witli  h  e  army,  penetrated  into  the 

heart  of  the  Iroquois  c-     -      .and  there  gave  unsuccessful 
battle  some  miles  to  the         n  of  Lake  Oneida.  — Ed.] 

1  Champlain  estimates  the  num})er  of  Huron  villages  at  seventeen  or 
eighteen.  Le  Jeune,  SagarJ,  an.l  Lalemant  afterwards  reckoned  them  at  from 
twenty  to  thirty-two.  Le  Clere,  following  Le  Caron,  makes  the  population 
about  ten  thousan.l  «ouls ;  but  several  later  observers,  as  well  as  Champlain 
himself,  set  it  at  above  thirty  thousand. 

*  A  warlike  iieople,  catle.l  Neutml  from  their  neutrality  between  the 
Hurons  and  the  Iro-iuois,  which  did  not  save  them  from  sharing  the  de-struc- 
tion  which  overwhelmed  the  former. 


I20  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1627 


CHAMPLAIN'S   CLOSINd    YEARS 


■  I 

"'I 

li 


II  I 


[On  his  iftiiru  to  Quebec  he  was  heset  with  new  difficul- 
ties. The  luerchants,  unscrupuhms  and  jealous,  were  a  con- 
slant  menace  to  his  authority,  while  the  religious  strife 
between  Catholics  and  Huguenots  was  daily  becoming  more 
emiiittered.  The  Ifecollets,  active  as  was  their  missionary 
zeal,  found  themselves  luiable  alone,  and  hampered  l)y  Hu- 
guenot ascendency,  to  supply  the  religious  needs  of  Canada. 
They  accordingly  applied  to  the  Jesuits  for  aid.  Tlnee  of 
their  brotlierhood,  Charles  Lalemant,  Enemond  ^lasse,  and 
Jean  de  Br(5beuf,  accordhigly  embarked ;  and  in  KVi'), 
fourteen  years  after  the  Jesuits  had  landed  in  Acadia, 
Canada  beheld  for  the  first  time  those  whose  names  stand 
so  prominent  in  her  annals,  —  the  mysterious  followers  of 
Loyola. 

Meantime  Eichelieu  had  tecome  supreme  in  France.  One 
of  his  first  cares  was  to  reorganize  the  dilapidated  affairs 
of  Canada.  To  this  end,  he  annulled  the  privileges  of  the 
Huguenot  brothers  De  Caen,  who  had  held  the  monopoly  of 
trade.  The  "  Company  of  New  France,"  commonly  called 
"  The  Company  of  the  Hundred  Associates,"  was  established 
in  1627,  with  sovereign  power  over  the  whole  of  New  France, 
from  Florida  to  the  Arctic  Circle.  Every  settler  ra\ist  be 
a  Frenchman  and  a  Catholic ;  and  for  every  new  settlement 
at  least  three  ecclesiastics  must  be  provided. 


,6,7]'  Champlain's  Closing  Years  121 

"Thus,"»avs  raikman,  "was New  France  to  be  forever  free 
from  the  tahit  of  heresy.     The  stain  of  her  infancy  was  to 
be  wiped  away.    Against  the  foreigner  and  the  Huguenot  the 
door  was  closed  and  barred.   England  threw  open  her  colonies 
to  all  who  wished  to  enter,  -  to  the  suftering  and  oppressed, 
the  bold,  active,  and  enterprising.     France  shut  out  those 
who  wished  to  come,  and  admitted  only  those  who  did 
not,—  the  favored  class  who  clung  to  the  old  faith  and  had 
no  motive  or  disposition  to  leave  their  homes.    English  coloni- 
zation obeyed  a  natural  law,  and  saile.l  with  wind  and  tide; 
French  colonization  spent  its  whole  struggling  existence  in 
futile   etrorts  to  make   head   against  them.      The  English 
colonist  developed  inherited  freedom  on  a  virgin  soil;  the 
French  colonist  was  pursued  across  the  Atlantic  by  a  pa- 
ternal despotism  better  in  intention  and  more  withering  in 
effect  than  that  which  he  left  behind.     If,  instead  of  ex- 
cluding Huguenots,  France  had  given  them  an  asylum  in  the 
west,  and  left  them  there  to  work  out  their  own  destinies, 
Canada  would  never  have   been  a  British  province,  and 
the   United   States  would  have   shared  their  vast  domain 
with  a  vigorous  i>opulation  of  self-governing  Frenchmen." » 
Quebec  had  not  yet  reached  the  lowest  ebb  of  her  pros- 
perity.   The  Calvinists  had  broken  out  into  armed  revolt  in 
France,  and  Charles  I.  of  England  had  despatched  a  deet  to 
their  aid.     An  enterprise  was  promptly  set  on  foot  to  cap- 
ture the  French  possessions  in  North  America.    At  its  head 
was  a  subject  of  Fmnce,  David  Kirk,  a  Calvinist  of  Dieppe. 
With  him  were  his  brothers,  Louis  and  Thomas  Kirk ;  and 
many  Huguenot  refugees  were  among  the  crews.     Quebec 
was  incapable  of  defence,  and  when  the  hostile  fleet  had 
wellni^'li  reduced  the  town   by  starvation  Champlam  was 

»  Pioneers  of  F.ance  in  the  New  World.     Samuel  Je  Champlaif,.  Ch.  XV. 


ill 


I; 


122  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1632 

forced  to  surrender  upon  honorable  terms.  This  was  in 
1629,  and  one  liundred  and  thirt}-  years  were  to  pass  before 
the  British  flag  was  again  viclunously  planted  upon  the 
citadel. 

In  1632  by  the  convention  of  Suza   New  France  was 
restored  to  the  French  crown.  —  Ed.] 


m 


i«35] 


Death  of  Champlain 


1^3 


DEATH   OF   CHAMPLAIN  1 


CiiKisTMAS  Day,  Ifii^f.,  was  a  dark  day  in  the  annals  of  New 
France.  In  a  chamber  of  the  fort,  breathless  and  cold,  lay 
the  hardy  frame  which  war,  the  wilderness,  and  the  sea  had 
bulYeted  so  long  in  vain.  After  two  months  and  a  half  of 
illness,  Champlain,  stricken 
with  paralysis,  at  the  age  of 
sixty-eight,  was  dead.  His 
last  cares  were  for  his  colony 
and  the  succor  of  its  suffering 
families.  Jesuits,  officers,  sol- 
diers, traders,  and  the  few  set- 
tlers of  Quebec,  followed  his 
remains  to  the  clmrch;  Le 
Jeune  pronounced  his  eulogy, 
and  the  feeble  community 
built  a  tomb  to  liis  honor. 

Tlie  colony  could  ill  spare 
him.     For  twenty-seven  years 

he  had  labored  hard  and  ceaselessly  for  its  welfare,  sacrificing 
fortune,  repose,  and  domestic,  peace  to  a  cause  embraced  with 
enthusiasm  and  pursxied  with  intrepid  persistency.  His 
character  belonged  partly  to  the  past,  partly  to  the  present. 
The  preux  chemiier,  the  crusader,  the  romance-loving  ex- 
plorer, the  curious,  knowledge-seeking  traveller,  the  practical 


Pi're  h  Jeune 


>  rioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World.  Samuel  de  Champlain,  Ch.  XVII. 


^! 


124  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  ['635 

navigator,  all  claimed  their  share  in  hiiu.     His  views,  though 
far  beyoud  those  of  the  mean  spirits  around  him,  l)elonged  to 
his  age  and  his  creed.     He  was  less  statesman  than  s.ddier. 
He  leaned  to  the  most  direct  and  boldest  policy,  and  one  of 
his  last  acts  was  to  petition  Uichelieu  for  men  and  muni- 
tions for  repressing  that  standing  menace  to  the  cohmy,  the 
Iro(iuois.     His  dauntless  courage  was  matched  by  an  un- 
wearied  patience,  proved   by   life-h.ng  vexations,  and   m.t 
wholly  subdued  even  by  the  saintly  follies  of  his  wife.     He 
is  chai-ged  with  credulity,  from  which  few  of  his  age  were 
free,  and  which  in  all  ages  has  been  the  foible  of  earnest 
and' generous  natures,  too  ardent  to  criticise,  and  t.)o  honor- 
able to   doubt  the  honor  of  others.     Perhaps   the   heretic 
might  have  liked  him  more  if  the  Jesuit  had  liked  him 
less.     The  adventurous  explorer  of  Lake  Huron,  the  bold 
invader  of  the  Iroquois,  befits  but  indifferently  the  monastic 
sobrieties  of  the  fort  of  Quebec,  and  his  sombre  environ- 
ment of  priests. 

His  books  mark  the  man,  — all  for  his  theme  and  his  pur- 
pose, nothing  for  himself.  Crude  in  style,  full  of  the  super- 
ficial errors  of  carelessness  and  haste,  rarely  diffuse,  often 
brief  to  a  fault,  they  bear  on  every  page  the  palpable  impress 

of  truth. 

With  the  life  of  the  faithful  soldier  closes  the  ojiening 
period  of  New  France.  Heroes  of  another  stamp  succeed; 
and  it  remains  to  tell  the  story  of  their  devoted  lives, 
their  faults,  follies,  and  virtues. 


i6o8i        France  and  England  in  America  125 


FRANCE  AND   KNGLAND   IN   AMERICA, 

1608-17C3 1 

The  American  colonies  of  France  and  England  grew  up 
to  maturity  under  widely  different  auspices.  Canada,  the 
offspring  of  Church  and  State,  nursed  from  infancy  in  the 
lap  of  power,  its  puny  strength  fed  with  artificial  stimulants, 
its  movements  guided  by  rule  and  discipline,  its  limbs 
trained  to  martial  exercise,  languislied,  in  spite  of  all,  from 
the  lack  of  vital  sap  and  eneigy.  Tlie  colonies  of  England, 
outcast  and  neglected,  but  strong  in  native  vigor  and  self- 
coutiding  courage,  grew  yet  more  strong  with  conflict  and 
with  striving,  and  devehjped  the  rugged  proportions  and  un- 
wieldy strength  of  a  youthful  giant. 

In  the  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  along  the  coasts  of 
the  Atlantic,  adverse  principles  contended  for  the  mastery. 
Feudalism  stood  arrayed  against  Democracy;  Popery  against 
I'rotestantism ;  the  sword  against  the  ploughshare.  The 
priest,  the  soldier,  and  the  noble  ruled  in  Canada.  The 
ignorant,  light-hearted  Canadian  peasant  knew  nothing  and 
cared  nothing  about  popular  riglits  and  civil  liberties. 
Born  to  obey,  he  lived  in  contented  submission,  without 
the  wish  iir  the  capacity  for  self-rule.  I'ower,  centred  in 
the  heart  of  the  system,  left  the  masses  inert.  Tlie  settle- 
ments along  the  margin  of  the  St.  Lawrence  were  like  a 

>  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  II. 


III  i  i^ 

Iv 

r  ;\ 


126  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [.663-1763 

camp,  where  an  army  lay  at  rest,  rea.ly  for  the   march  or 
the   hattle,  and  where  war  and  adventure,  nut    trade   and 
tillage,  seemed  the  chief   aims  of   life.      The  lords  of  the 
soil  were  i^etty  nobles,  f..r  the  most  part  soldiers,  or  the 
s„ns  of  soldiers,  proud  and  oslentati..us,  thriftless  and  lu.or ; 
and  the  peoi.le  Wi-re  their  vassals.     Over  i'very  clusti-r  ..f 
small  white  houses  {rlitlered  the  saere.l  end.h-n.  of  the  cross. 
The  church,  the  (M.nvent.  and  the  romlside  shrine  were  seen 
at  every  turn;  and  in  the  towns  and  villages,  one  met  each 
moment  the  Mack  rohe  of  the  .Iesv.it,  the  gray  garb  ..f  the 
lU'..nllet,  an.l  the  formal  habit  of  the  I'l^uline  nun.     Ihe 
names  of  saints,  St.  .h.seph,  St.   Ignatius,  St.  Francis,  were 
IKM-petualed  in  the  capes,  riveii,,  and  islands,  the  forts  and 
viUa.res  of  the  land ;  and  with  every  day,  crowds  of  simple 
worshipi>ers  knelt  in  adoration  before  the  countless   altars 

of  the  rit)man  faith. 

If  we  search  the  world  for  the  sharpest  contrast  t..  the 
spiritual  and   temporal  vassalage  of  Canada,  we  shall  tmd 
it   among   her   immediate    neighbors,  the  Puritans  of  ^ew 
Englan.l,  where  the  spirit  of  non-conformity  was  sublimed  to 
a  iierv  essence,  and  where  the  love  of  liberty  and  the  hatred 
of  power  burned  with  sevenfohl  heat.     The  Knglish  colonist, 
with  thoughtful  brow  and  limbs  hardened  with  tod;  calling 
no  man  nmster,  yet  bowing  reverently  to  the  law  whu-h  he 
himself  had  made;  patient  and  laborious,  and  seeking  for 
the  solid  comf.>rts  rather  than  the  ornaments  ot   life ;   no 
lover  of  war.  yet.  if  need  were,  fighting  with  a  stubborn, 
indomitable  courage,  and   then    bending   once   more   with 
steadfast  energ)-  to  his  farm  or  his  merchandise,  -  such  a 
man  might  well  be  deenunl  the  very  pith  and  marrow  of  a 

commonwealth. 

In  every  (piality  of  ethcieiu-y  and  strength,  the  Canadian 


'  t 


1663-1763]    France  and  England  in  America         127 

fell  luiserably  liolow  his  rival ;  Inil  in  all  that  ph-ases  the 
eye  and  iiiteiesls  the  iumt,'iiialiiiii,  he  far  surpassed  him. 
IJuoyant  ami  gay,  like  his  ancestry  of  France,  he  nuule 
the  fro/en  wilderness  ring  with  niemnienl,  answered  the 
surly  howling  of  the  pine  forest  with  jK-als  of  laughter,  and 
warmed  with  revelry  tlie  groaning  ice  of  the  Si.  I^wrence. 
Careless  and  thoughtless,  he  lived  happy  in  tlie  mi<lst  of 
poverty,  content  if  he  could  hut  gain  the  means  t(»  till  his 
tobacco-pouch,  and  th'corate  the  cap  of  his  mistress  with 
a  ribbon.  The  exani[>le  of  a  beggared  nobility,  who,  pnmd 
and  iHjnniless,  could  only  assert  their  rank  by  idk-ness  and 
ostentation,  was  not  h)st  upon  him.  A  riglitful  heir  to 
French  bravery  and  French  restlessness,  he  iiad  an  eager 
love  of  wandering  and  adventure;  and  this  jnopensity  found 
ample  scoiie  in  the  service  of  the  fur-tnule,  the  engrossing 
occupation  and  chief  source  of  income  to  the  colony. 
When  the  priest  i  i"  .  t.  Ann's  had  shrived  him  of  his  sins; 
when,  after  the  |)arting  carousal,  he  embarked  with  his 
conuades  in  the  deei>laden  canoe;  when  their  oars  kept 
time  to  the  measured  cadence  of  their  song,  and  the  blue, 
sunny  bosom  of  the  Ottawa  opened  before  them;  when 
their  frail  bark  ijuivered  among  the  milky  foam  and  black 
ntcks  of  the  rapid;  and  when,  around  their  camp-tire,  they 
wvisted  half  the  night  with  jests  and  laughter,  —  then  the 
Canadian  was  in  his  element.  His  footsteps  explored  the 
farthest  hiding-places  of  the  wilderness.  In  tho  ,veniug 
dance,  his  red  cap  mingled  with  the  scali>-locks  and  feathers 
of  the  Indian  braves;  or,  stretched  on  a  bear-skin  by  the 
side  of  his  dusky  mistress,  he  watched  the  gambols  of  his 
hybrid  offspring,  in  happy  oblivion  of  the  ]>ariuer  wliom  he 
left  unnumbered  ^ea^^'ues  behind. 

The  fur-trade  engendered  a  i)eculiar  class  of  restless  bush- 


1r 


1 


1 


Ml 
1  t  k 


128  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent      "sos  .663 

rai.Kna,  mure  uki.i  to  Imliuns  than  to  whao  num.     Tliuse 

who  had  uiK-e  felt  the  fascinations  ..f  the  forest  vvore  mi- 

titte.l  ever  after  for  a   life   of   .luiet   labor;  and  with   Hi- 

spirit  the  wh..le  coh.i.y  was  infe.-te.l.     From  thi.,  «  .  :  0,  u" 

less  than  fn.in  o-rasioiial  wars  with    the    Kii}^lisl.,  >.;  J   a- 

iH.altMl  attacks  of  the   Iroquois,  the  a«ri«'ulture  of  l'^"  •'■I'U 

try    was   sunk   to   a   h.w   ehh;    while    feudal    »x     ti.-.  a 

ruinous   system   of    monop.ly,   and    the    inlerni-daiM!;.- 

arl.itmrv  I'ower.  cramiK-d    every   hrandi   of    iiidusiiv. 

hy  t!ie  zeal  of  priests  and  tiie  daring  .Mitcri.rise  ol   soldic 

and   explorers,  ( 'anada.  thout,di    sai'les^   and    inlirm,  spread 

forts   and  missions    throujrh    all    the    western    wikhTness. 

Keehly  rooted  in  iht   soil,  she  thrust  out  brandies  which 

overshadowed  half   America;  a  maf;nii"H'i'i<i    object  t..  the 

eye,  but  »me  which  the  tirst  whirlwind  would  prostrate  iu 

the  dust. 

Such  excursive  enterprise  was  alien  to  the  Renins  of  the 
lintish  colonies.     Darinj,'  activity  .vas  rife  auionj,'  them,  but 
it  di,l  not  aim  at  the    foundin}?  of   military  outposts  an.l 
f.Mvst  missions,     liy  the  force  of  enen/etic  industry,  their 
l)opulation  swelled  with  an  unheard-<.f  rapidity,  their  wealth 
increased  in  a  yet  ^nvater  rati(.,  a--'   their  promise  of  future 
gieatness  opened  with  every  advanciii«?  year.     Hut  it  was 
a  greatness  rather  of  i^eace  than  of  war.     The  free  institu- 
tions, the  indci>endence  of  authority,  which  were  the  source 
of  their  increase,  were  adverse  to  that  unity  of  counsel  and 
promptitude  of  acuou  which  are  iho  soul  of  war.     U  was 
far   otherwise   with    their   military  rival.     France  hud  her 
Canadian  f..rces  well  in  hand.     They  had  but  one  will,  an.l 
that  was  the  will  of  a  mistress.     Now  here,  now  there,  in 
sharp  and  raj.id  onset,  they  coul.l  a-sail  the  cumbrous  masses 
and  unwiehlv  stivngth  of  their  antagonists,  as  the  l-ing-bird 


ieo8-i6«3i    I    iince  and  Eiiglani'  in   \intrica  129 

attacks  the  eafjN'.  "r  the  .Hwortl-I    .1   tlii     vhak'.      Il.'twecti 
two  such  L<Jiultaluul>  the  stnl'c  lis   -l  nceil-  h    a  l    ;/    rie. 

Cana»la  wu.s  a  true  ihiM  of  the  Chun    ,  bapi       '    .ii   in- 
fancy and   takhfui  to  ihe  last.     Charuphiin.  the  fuunder  of 
t^uc!     ,  a  niuii  <»i  ii'iltlo  .Hitirit.a  stati  ^luan  aid  a  ?<>1(  icr,  vas 
deeply  iinliiied  v  itl;   tVrvid  jm   ,,.        The  sav  '  1;  of    •.  «"u.' " 
he  wo  lid  often  SUN ,"  IS  ^'.rth     I'-re  tl  m  tht         ()U(-?'ta'' 
empu-e  ;"  and  to  funvuid  t'le  woi.  (.1    oiivei>(Oii   he  !■       'hi 
witli    im.a."  '  el:  ivi!seen,     ur  Fraui  ^^i-a    monk.''     in, 
At  a  later  i>fri(Ml,  the  task  ni   col  nizati    1  woulu  hnvt 
ahauci<»ne(i,  but  for  the  hope   'f  cn'-fi-  i,  t       \>xn    I' 'hi 
faitli  over  the  gloomy  wastes 01  he     ,  A.         nee 

tilled  with  the  zeal  of  proselyti         Men. it     woiii  ex',      i 

rank  lent  their  Ci>Mulenar<'e  t<    ^  •  hoi  '       u  many  an 

altar  <laily  p  tition-  v'er<  ofi'ered  t'ir  lie  .vf  ng  of  the 
mission;  ami  in  the  Hoh  fuise  >  Muni  Mi  re,  a  nun  lay 
pr->.strate  day  and  night  i  lurc  ■  ^-iirine,  '  ving  for  the 
conversion  of  Canada.  In  "!U;  vent,  1'' 
themselves  for  ln>»  labors  f  the  wi  '■ 
flocketl  ui  crowds  tl!<'  colony.  The 
took  alaim  :  nnd  ten  a  ship,  freight 
of  the  f'         was    <■  nst   .  ■■  >n  her  .oyage,  the  storm 

was  ascrib  to  '  luuMf  of  aious,  embling  for  the 
safety  of       dr    11  eui      v. 

The  ji  tal  em  lasm  v  not  withon'  its  fruits.  The 
Church  I  iihl  jiay  Iki- k  h  u-urv  thai  she  received  of 
aid  and  ei    ourai,'ement     ■   m  the  lc:  ower;   and  the 

ambition  o;  irheliou  coi.id  not  have  >  ,-ed  a  more  efficient 
enginery  for  lie  acco  .plishment  of  its  .schemes,  than  that 
supplied  by  ihe  zeal  1  the  devoted  propagandists.  The 
priest  and  "!i  ■  soMi.        'ut  hand  in  hand;  and  the  cross  and 


■urns  ofl'ered 

an  '  priests 

rs  of      akness 

!i   !he    ipostles 


t  he  flei 


W'H      anted  side  by  side. 
9 


I30  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     11608-1673 


m 


I 

r 


THK   -IKSriTS 

The    Missionaries.!  — F.'renu).st    ainonp  the    envoys   of   the 
faith  wore  the  members  of  that  mij^hly  order,  who,  hi  another 
hemisi.here,  had  aheady  done  so   much  to  turn  hack  the 
advancing  tide  of  religious  freedom,  and  strengthen  the  arm 
of  liome.     To  the  Jesuits  was  assigned,  for  many  years,  the 
entire  charge  of  the  Canadian  missions,  to  the  excdusion  of 
the  FniMcircans,  early  laborers   in   the   same   barren   tield. 
Insi)ired  with  a  self-devoting  zeal  to  snatch  souls  from  per- 
dition, an<l  win  new  empires  to  the  cross  ;  casting  from  them 
every  hope  of  earthly  pleasure  or  earthly  aggrandizement, 
tlie  Jesuit  fathers  l)uried  themselves  in  .leserts,  facing  death 
with  the  courage  of  heroes,  and  enduring  torments  with  the 
constancy  of  martyrs.    Their  story  is  replete  with  marvels  — 
miracles  of  patient  sun'ering  and  daring  enterprise.     They 
were  the  ^jioneers  of  Northern  America.    We  see  them  among 
the  frozen  forests  of  Acadia,  struggling  on  snow-shoes,  with 
some  wandering  Algnniiuin  horde,  or  crouching  in  the  crowded 
h\niting-lodge.  half  stilled  in  the  smoky  den,  and  battluig 
with  tro..ps  of  famished  dogs  for  the  last  morsel  of  suste- 
nance.    Again  we  see  the  black-robed  priest  wading  among 
the  white  rapids  of  the  Ottawa,  toiling  with  his  savage  com- 
rades to  drag  the  canoe  against  the  headlong  water.     Again, 
radiant  in  the  vestments  of  his  priestly  otHce,  he  administers 
the  sacramental  bread  to  kneeling  crowds  of  plumed  and 

»  The  Conspiracy  of  Tontiao,  Vol.  I.,  Cli.  II. 


,638]  The  Jesuits  i3» 

painted  proselytes  in  the  forests  of  the  Hurons ;  or,  bear- 
ing his  life  in  his  hand,  carries  his  sacred  mission  into 
the  strongholds  of  the  Irt»quois,  like  one  who  invades  un- 
armed a  den  of  angry  tigers.  Jesuit  explorers  t.-ed  the 
St.  Lawrence  to  its  source,  and  said  masses  among  the  soli- 
tudes of  Lake  Sui)erior,  where  the  boldest  fur-trader  scarcely 
dared  to  follow.  They  planted  missions  at  St.  Mary  s  and 
at  Michilliniackinac ;  and  one  of  their  fraternity,  the  illus- 
trious Marquette,  discovered  the  Mississippi,  and  opened  a 
new  theatre  to  the  boundless  ambition  of  France. 

Jesuit  Daily  Life.^  —  In  respect  to  the  commodities  of  life, 
the  Jesuits  were  but  a  step  in  advance  of  the  Indians.    Their 
iKJUse,  though  well  ventilated  by  numberless  ct  vices  m  its 
bark  walls,  always  smelt  of  smoke,  and,  when  ihe  wind  was 
in  certain  quarters,  was  tilled  with  it  to  suffocation.    At  their 
meals,  the  fathers  sat  on  logs  around  the  fire,  over  which 
their  kettle  was  slung  in  the  Indian  fashion.     Each  had  his 
wooden  platter,  which,  from  the  difficulty  of  transportation, 
was  valued,  in  the  Huron  country,  at  the  price  of  a  robe  of 
beaver-skin  or  a  hundred  francs.     Their  food  consisted  of 
sagamite,  or  "  mush,"  made  of  pounded  Indian-corn,  boiled 
with  scraps  of  smoked  fish.     Chaumonot  compares  it     •  the 
paste  used  for  papering  the  walls  of  houses.     The  repast  was 
occasionally  varied  by  a  pumpkin  or  sciuash  baked  in  the 
ashes,  or,  in  the  season,  by  Indian  corn  roasted  in  the  ear. 
They  used  no  salt  whatever.     They  could  bring  their  cum- 
brous pictures,  ornaments,  and  vestments  through  the  savage 
journey  of  the  Ottawa ;  but  they  could  not  bring  the  common 
necessaries  of  life.     By  day,  they  read  and  studied  by  the 
light  that  streamed  in  through  the  large  smoke-holes  in  the 
roof,  —  at  night,  by  the  blaze  of  the  fire.     Their  only  candles 

1  The  Jesuits  in  North  Ameiica  iu  the  Seventaenth  Ccatury,  Ch.  XI. 


si 

Si. 


13.  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1038 

were  a  few  of  wax,  for  the  altar.  'I'liev  cultivated  a  i)atch  of 
grou'ui,  but  >aised  nothing  on  it  except  wheat  for  making 
the  sacramental  bread.  'I'heir  food  was  supplied  by  the 
Indians,  to  whom  they  gave,  in  return,  cloth,  knives,  awls, 
needles,  and  various  trinkets.  Their  supjdy  of  wine  for  the 
Eucharist  was  so  scanty  that  they  limited  themselves  to  four 
or  Hve  drops  for  each  mass. 

Their  life  was  regulated  with  a  conventual  strictness.  At 
four  ill  the  morning,  a  bell  roused  them  from  the  sheets  of 
bark  on  which  they  slept.  Masses,  private  devotions,  read- 
ing religious  liooks,  anil  breakfasting,  filled  the  time  until 
eight,  when  they  opened  their  door  and  admitted  the  Indians. 
As  many  of  these  proved  intolerable  nuisances,  they  took 
what  T^ilemant  calls  the  honnNe  li})erty  of  turnin.T  out  the 
most  intrusive  and  impracticable,  —  an  act  performed  with 
all  tact  and  courtesy,  and  rarely  taken  in  dudgeon.  Having 
tlnis  winnowed  their  company,  they  catechized  those  that  re- 
mained, as  opportunity  offered.  In  the  intervals,  the  guests 
scjuatted  by  the  fire  and  smoked  their  pipes. 

As  among  the  Spartan  virtues  of  the  Hurons  that  of  thiev- 
ing was  especially  conspicuous,  it  was  necessary  that  one  or 
more  of  the  Fathers  .should  remain  on  guard  at  the  house  all 
day.  The  rest  went  forth  on  their  missionary  labors,  bap- 
tizing and  instructing,  as  we  have  seen.  To  each  priest  who 
could  speak  Huron  was  assigned  a  certain  number  of  houses, 
—  in  some  instances,  as  many  as  forty ;  and  as  these  often 
liad  five  or  six  fires,  with  two  families  to  each,  his  spiritual 
flock  was  as  numerous  f  s  it  was  intractable.  It  was  his  care 
to  see  that  none  of  the  number  died  without  baptism,  and 
by  every  means  in  his  |X)wer  to  commeml  the  doctrines  of 
his  faith  to  the  accejitance  of  those  in  health. 

At  dinner,  which  was  at  two  o'clock,  grace  was  said  in 


n 


■  J; 


1632-1700]  The  Jesuits  I33 

Huron,  — for  the  benefit  of  the  Indians  present,  — and  a 
chapter  of  the  Bible  was  read  aloud  during  the  meal  At 
four  or  five,  according  to  the  season,  the  Indians  were  dis- 
missed, the  door  closed,  and  the  evening  spent  in  writing, 
reading,  studying  the  language,  devotion,  and  conversation 
on  the  affairs  of  the  mission. 

Such  intrepid  self-devotion  may  well  call  forth  ^  our  highest 
admiration ;  but  when  we  seek  for  the  results  of  these  toils 
and  sacrifices,  we  shall  seek  in  vain.  Patience  and  zeal 
were  thrown  away  upon  lethargic  minds  and  stubborn  hearts. 
The  reports  of  the  Jesuits,  it  is  true,  display  a  copious  list  of 
conversions;  but  the  zealous  fathers  reckoned  the  number 
of  conversions  by  the  number  of  baptisms ;  and,  as  Le  Clercq 
observes,  with  no  less  truth  than  candor,  an  Indian  would  be 
baptized  ten  times  a  day  for  a  pint  of  brandy  or  a  pound  of 
tobacco.  Neither  can  more  flattering  conrlusions  be  drawn 
from  the  alacrity  which  they  showed  to  uJ  om  their  persons 
with  crucifixes  and  medals.  The  glitter  of  the  trinkets 
pleased  the  fancy  of  the  warrior ;  and,  with  the  emblem  of 
man's  salvation  pendent  from  his  neck,  he  was  often  at  heart 
as  thorough  a  heathen  as  when  he  wore  in  its  place  a  neck- 
lace made  of  the  dried  forefingers  of  his  enemies.  At  the 
present  day,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  insignificant  bands 
of  converted  Indians  in  Lower  Canada,  not  a  vestige  of  early 
Jesuit  influence  can  be  found  among  the  tribes.  Tlie  seed 
was  sown  upon  a  rock. 

While  the  church  was  reapinp  ■<,:  a  scanty  harvest ,  the 
labors  of  the  missionaries  were  ■!■:  ful  of  profit  to  the 
monarch  of  France.  The  Jesuit  d  the  van  of  French 
colonization;  and  at  Detroit,  Michillimackinac,  St.  Mary's, 
Green  Bay,  and  other  outposts  of  the  west,  the  establishment 
i  The  Coii»i>iiaoy  of  Pontiao,  Vol.  I.,  Cfa.  II. 


134  The  Struggle  for  a  Coiitinenr  [1638 

of  a  mission  was  Ihe  precursor  of  military  oc-upaucy.     In 
other  respects  no  less,  the  labt.rs  of  the  wamlering  missi<.n- 
aries  advanced  the  welfare  of  the  colony.     Sagacious  and 
keen  of  sight,  with  faculties  stinmlaied  by  zeal  and  sharp- 
ened by  peril,  they  made  faithful  rei)ort  of  the  temper  and 
movements  of  the  distant  tribes  among  whom  they  were  dis- 
tributed.    The  influence  which  they  often  gained  was  exerted 
in  behalf  of  the  government  under  whose  auspices  their  mis- 
sions were  carried  on ;  and  they  strenuously  labored  to  win 
over  the  lri]>es  to  the  French  alliance,  and  alienate  them 
from  the  heretic  English.     In  all  things  they  approved  the  !^  • 
selves  the  stanch  and  steadfast  auxiliaries  of  the  imperial 
power;  and  the  Marquis  du  (,)uesne  observed  of  the  mis- 
sionary Piiiuet,  that  in  his  single  person  he  was  worth  ten 
regiments. 


1636-1640]      The  Founding  of  Montreal 


135 


THE  FOUNDING  OF  MONTREAL 


[To  an  outburst  of  religious  enthusiasm  we  owe  the  found- 
ing of  the  city  of  Montreal  Cartier  had  found  the  site 
occupial  by  the  Indian  village  of  Hochelaga.  Champlain 
had  realized  its  importance  as  a  trading-post  advantageously 
situated  at  the  confluence  of  the  Ottawa  with  the  St.  Law- 
rence; and  the  Jesuits  had  marked  it  out  as  an  advanced 
centre  for  missionary  enterprise.  The  position,  however,  was 
eminently  dangerous,  for  it  was  within  easy  striking  dis- 
tance of  the  Iroquois. 

The  story  of  Jesuit  hardships  embodied  in  the  famous 
"  Jesuit  Relations  "  had  tilled  France  with  a  spirit  of  religious 
exaltation.     A  devout  noble  named  de  la  Dauversifere  had 
experienced,  according  to  his  own  account,  a  series  of  re- 
markable visions  wherein  he  was  commanded  to  found  a 
new  order  of  hospital  nuns ;  and  he  was  further  ordered  to 
establish,  on  the  island  called  Montreal,  a  hospital,  or  HOtel- 
Dieu,  to  be  conducted  by  these  nuns.     By  a  strange  coinci- 
dence a  priest  named  Olier  affirmed  that  he  had  received  a 
series  of  similar  visions.     They  presently  met  by  a  providen- 
tial chance,  and  determined  upon  a  plan  of  action.     "  They 
proposed,"  writes  Parkman.^  "to  found  at   Montreal  tbree 
religious  communities,  — //tree  being  the  mystic  number,— 
one  of  secular  priests  to  direct  the  colonists  and  convert  the 
Indians,  one  of  nuns  to  nurse  the  sick,  and  one  of  nuns  to 
1  The  Jesuits  in  North  America  in  the  Seven'.  .«nth  Century,  Ch.  XV. 


■•'  ' 


if  If 


II   H 


li 


136  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1640 

teach  tlie  Fuilh  to  the  chihheii,  while  and  red.  To  burrow 
their  owu  phrase,  ihey  would  [ilaul  the  baimer  of  Christ  in 
ail  abode  of  desolation  and  a  haunt  of  demons ;  and  to  this 
end  a  band  of  priests  and  women  were  to  invade 
tlie  wilderness,  and  lake  post  lietween  the  fangs 
of  the  Inxjuois."  It  will  be  observed  that  the 
piilony  was  to  lie  established  for  the  convents, 
not  the  convents  for  the  colony,  a  curious  rever- 
sal of  the  natural  course  of 
things.  These  events  culmi- 
nated in  the  year  1640.  The 
Lsland  of  Montreal  belonged 
to  Lauson,  former  president  of 
the  gieat  company  of  the  Hun- 
dred Associates.  Having  se- 
cured their  title  from  him  and 
from  his  company,  Dauversifere 
and  Olier  ra[»idly  matured  their 
jilans. 

A    military   leader    of    the 
expedition  was  secured  in  the 
person  of  the  devout  and  in- 
trepid Sieur  de  Maisonneuve. 
"He  loved   his  profession   of 
arms,   and   wished   to   conse- 
crate his  sword  to  the  Church. 
Past    all    comparison,   he    is 
the  manliest   figure   that  ap- 
pears in  this  group  of  zealots. 
The  piety  of  the  design,  the  miracles  that  inspired  it,  the  ad- 
venture and  the  peril,  all  combined  to  charm  him ;  and  he 
eagerly  embraced  the  enterprise." ' 

'  The  Jesuits  in  North  Atiieiica  in  the  Seventeenth  Century,  Ch.  XV. 


Mni.innnriir/^ 


i64i-i64»]       The  Founding  of  Montreal  137 

The  imperative  ueeil  for  iiiuuey  wus  soon  satistied  through 
the  zeal  of  Dauversiijre.aml  it  only  remained  to  Hud  a  woman 
of  sutlicieut  devotion  to  saeritice  worldly  ease  to  the  sacred 
caiLse.     Such  a  woman  was  found  in  Mademoiselle  Mance, 
who  eagerly  embraced  this  opportunity  of  iM)Ssible  martyrdom. 
In  August,  KUl,  Maisoimeuve  and   Mademoiselle  Mance, 
accompanied  by  forty  men  and  f(»ur  women,  arrived  at  Que- 
bc< ,  tt>o  late  to   attempt  the 
jouriu'y  to  Montreal  for  that 
seaso!i.     In  fact  the  (lovernor 
Montmagny  threw  every  obsta- 
cle into  their  way  to  frustrate 
the  enterprise,  deeming  it,  and 
with  justice,  inexijetlient  and 
rash  to  establish  a  new  colony 
beyond  the  reach  of  reinforce- 
ments from  (i>uebec.    1 1  e  pr»  >!  »- 
ably  foresaw  also  a  future  rival 
should  the  new  town  jtrosper 
according  to  the  exiKJctations 
of     its    optimistic    founders. 
Maisonneuve  expressed  his  surprise  that  Montmagny  and  liis 
advisers  should  thus  seek  to  direct  hia  aiVairs.     "  I  have  not 
come  here,"  he  said,  "  to  delil)erate,  but  to  act.     It  is  my  duty 
and  my  iKmor  to  found  a  colony  at  Montreal;  and  I  would 
go,  if  every  tree  were  an  Iroquois !  " 

The  winter  was  spen:,  at  St.  Michel,  three  miles  from 
Quebec,  in  building  boats  to  ascend  to  Montreal,  and  in  vari- 
ous other  labors  for  the  behoof  of  the  future  colony.  —  Eu.] 

Early  in  May,  1042,  Mais.nuieuve  and  his  followers'  em- 
barked.    They  liad  gained  an  unexpected  recniit  dining  the 
I  Tlif  .I.'suit-s  ill  North  Ainoiica  in  the  SL-vriitwiitli  Cciitiiry,  Ch.  XV. 


MiKliiiiir  ilf  lit  t'ittrie 


i^ 


Hi 


138  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [164a 

wiater,  in  the  prsoii  of  Matlanio  cle  la  IVltrie.  The  piety, 
the  novelty,  and  the  romance  of  their  enterprise,  all  had  their 
charms  for  the  fair  enthusiast ;  and  an  irresistible  imimlse  — 
imputed  l>y  a  slanderiufj  historian  to  the  levity  of  her  sex  — 
urjjed  lier  to  sliarc  llieir  fortunes.  Her  zeal  was  more  ailmired 
i.v  the  Montrealists  whom  slit-  joined  than  hy  the  rrsulines 
wliom  she  aliandonetl.  She  carried  off  all  tlie  finiiiture  she 
had  lent  them,  and  left  them  in  the  utmost  destitution.  Nor 
did  site  remain  (juiet  after  readiinj,'  Montreal,  but  was  ]>res- 
ently  seized  with  a  lonjfing  to  visit  the  Huroiis,  and  iMvath 
the  Faith  in  jierson  to  those  bcni<fhted  heathen.  It  needed 
all  tlie  elotpr  e  of  a  .lesuil,  lately  leturned  from  that  most 
arduous  mission,  to  eonvuiee  her  that  the  attempt  woulil  be 
as  useless  as  rash. 

It  was  the  ei<,d»ih  of  May  when  Maisonneuve  and  his 
foUowers  end)arkeil  at  St.  :MiclieI ;  and  as  the  boats,  deei>- 
laden  with  men,  arms,  and  stores,  moved  slowly  on  tlieir 
way,  the  ft>rest,  with  leaves  just  opening  in  the  warmth  of 
sprinpj,  lay  on  their  rij^ht  hand  and  on  their  left,  in  a  tlalter- 
int^  .semblance  of  traiKpiillity  and  \)eace.  llut  behind  woixly 
islets,  in  tangled  thickets  and  damj)  ravines,  and  in  the 
shade  and  stillness  of  the  cohnnned  woods,  lurked  every- 
where a  danger  and  a  terror. 

What  shall  we  say  of  these  adventurers  of  Montreal,  —  of 
these  who  bestowed  their  wealth  and,  far  more,  of  these  who 
sacrificed  their  peace  and  risked  their  lives,  on  an  enterprise 
at  once  so  romantic  and  .so  devout  ?  Surrounded  as  they 
were  with  illusions,  false  lights, and  false  shadow^-,  —breath- 
ing an  atmosphere  of  miracle,  —  compassed  about  with  angels 
and  devils,  —  urged  with  stimulants  most  powerful,  though 
unreal.  —  their  minds  druggetl,  as  it  were,  to  preternatural 
excitement,  —  it  is  very  dillicult  to  judge  of  them.     High 


i643i  The  Founding  of  Montreal  1 39 

iiierit,  without  doubt,  tlieie  was  in  some  of  their  nunibur; 
but  «)ne  may  bej^  to  be  »\mvi\  the  attempt  to  measure  or 
(letiue  it.  To  estimate  a  virtue  involved  in  conditions  so 
anomahms  (K'mai\ds,  iiurhaps,  a  judj^ment  more  than  hunmn. 

The  l!oiiian  Church,  sui\k  in  disease  and  corrui>tion  when 
tlie  li'eformation  be^fiiii,  was  rousetl  by  that  tierce  trumitet- 
bhist  to  i>ur<jL'  and  liracc  licrscif  anew.  I'nalile  to  advance, 
she  (hew  back  to  the  fresher  and  comiiaratively  purer  life  of 
the  past;  and  the  fervors  of  niediicval  Cinistianity  were 
renewed  in  the  sixteenth  century.  In  many  of  its  asjiecls, 
tliis  enterprise  of  Montreal  l)elonf^ed  10  the  time  of  the  lirst 
Crusades.  The  spirit  of  (iodfrey  de  llouilloii  lived  aj^ain  in 
Clioniedy  de  Maisonneuve ;  and  in  Marguerite  Pxturgeoys* 
was  realized  that  fair  ideal  «>f  Christian  womanliood,  a 
flower  of  Earth  expanding  in  the  rays  of  Heaven,  which 
sootheil  with<:;entle  influence  the  wiltlnessof  a  liarbarous  ape. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  ^lay,  1042,  Maisonneuvc's  little 
flotilla  —  a  jiinnace,  a  flat-bottomed  craft  moved  by  .sails, 
anil  two  row-b()ats  —  ap]»roached  Montreal;  and  all  on  board 
raised  in  unison  a  hymn  of  praise.  Montmagny  was  with 
them,  to  deliver  the  i.sland,  in  behalf  of  the  Comjiany  of  the 
Hundred  Associates,  to  Maisonneuve,  rf^presentative  of  the 
Associates  of  Montreal.  And  here,  ioo,  was  Father  Vimont, 
Superior  of  the  missions;  for  the  Jesuits  iiad  been  pnidently 
invited  to  accept  the  .spiritual  charge  of  the  young  colony. 
On  the  *  lowing  day,  they  glided  along  the  green  and  soli- 
tary shor.  now  thronged  with  the  life  of  a  busy  city,  and 
landetl  on  liie  si)ot  which  Champlain,  thirty-one  years  before, 
liad  clxjsen  as  the  fit  site  of  a  .settlement.  It  was  a  tongue  or 
triangle  ot  land,  formed  by  the  junction  of  a  rivulet  with  the 
St.  Lawrence,  and  known  afterwards  as  Point  Callifere.     The 

'  Marguerite  Boiirgeoj's  renounced  lier  inheritance  in  1653,  and  sailed  for 
Montreal,  llie  scene  of  her  future  labors.  —  Ed. 


. 


•n 


i.  I 


j , 


140  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  li64» 

rivulet  was  Ix.rderea  by  a  nieu.loxv,  aiul  lje)ond  rose  the 
forest  with  its  vanguanl  nf  sc-atlt-rea  trees.  Karly  spring 
flowers  were  blooming  in  the  young  gias^,  and  birds  of 
varied  plumage  flitted  among  the  boughs. 

Maisnnneuve  sprang  ushor..  and  fell  on  his  knees,     ll.s 
foUowei-s  in.itated  his  example;  and  all  j.-ined  their  voices 
i„  enlhusiaslie  songs  of  ih.nksglving.     Tents,  baggage,  arms, 
and  sl..res  were  landed.     An  altar  was  raised  on  a  pleasant 
^pot  near  at  hand;  and  Mademoiselle  Manee.  with  Madame 
de  la   I'eltrie,  aided  by  her  servant,  Clmrlotie  Uanv,  .lec- 
rate.l  it  with  a  taste  which  was  the  admirati..n  ..f  the  be- 
liolders.     N..W  all  the  company  gathered  before  the  shrine. 
Here  stood    Vimont,  in   the    rich    vestments  of   his  othce. 
Here  were  the  two  la.lies.  with  their  servant;  Montmagny, 
no    very   willing   spectator;   an.l   Maisonneuve,    a   warlike 
figure,  erect  and   tall,  his  men   clustering   around   him,- 
soldiers,  saih.rs,  artisans,  and  laborers,  -  all  alike  s..ldiers 
at  need.     Thev  kneeled  in  reverent  silence  as  the  Host  was 
raised  aloft;  and  when  the  rite  was  over,  the  priest  turned 
aiul  addressed  them  :  — 

'«  You  are  a  grain  of  mustard-see.l,  that  shall  rise  and  grow 
till  its  branches  ..vershaduw  the  earth.  You  are  few,  but 
your  work  is  the  work  of  God.  His  smile  is  on  you.  and 
your  children  shall  till  the  land." 

The  aftern.H.u  waned;  the  sun  sank  behind  the  western 
forest,  and  twilight  came  on.  Fireflies  were  twinkling  over 
the  darkened  mea.low.  They  caught  them,  tied  them  with 
threads  into  shining  festoons,  and  hung  them  before  the 
altar,  where  the  Host .. rained  exposed.  Then  they  pitched 
their  tents,  lighted  then  bivouac  fires,  stationed  their  guards, 
and  lay  down  to  rest.  Such  was  the  birth-night  .4'  Montreal. 
Is  this  true  hi-'"ry,  •  r  a  romance  of  (Jiiristiau  chivalry  ( 
It  is  both. 


with 
the 
.chcd 
lards, 
treal, 
airy  i 

St/Kr 

mj<tl„.g!r*         sik* 

li 


*r 


1649] 


Ruin  of  the  Hurons 


141 


RUIN  OF  THE  HURONS,   1C49» 


More  than  eight  months  had  passed  since  the  catastrophe 
of  St.  Joseph.'  The  winter  was  over,  and  that  dreariest 
of  seasons  had  come,  the  clmrlish  fi)renuiner  of  spring. 
Around  Saiute  Marie  the  forests  were  gru\-  and  bare,  I'ud, 
in  the  cornfiekls,  the  oozy,  half-thjiwed  soil,  studded  with 
the  sodden  stalks  of  the  last  autumn's  harvest,  showed 
itself  in  patches  through  the  melting  snow. 

At  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  sixteenth  of  March, 
the  priests  saw  a  heavy  smoke  rising  over  the  nuKtd  forest 

»  The  Jesuits  in  North  America  in  thi>      ventcenth  Century,  Ch.  XX\  i' 
The  most  extensive  nii-tsion  which  lliv  Jesuits  establish    I  in  'he  se».  • 
tcenth  century  was  among  the  Huron  Indiana  who  dwelt  beside  the  waters    ' 
the  great  lake  which  U  urs  their  nam-      Tin-  Iroquois,  the  vind'.nive  anoesf  , 
foes  of  the  Huron  race,  ahno-st  coniiilctely  annihUatcd  that  tribe  in  the  yt 
1649.  —  Ed. 

2  The  Jesuit  settlements  were  near  the  shores  of  what  is  now  the  Ocorgian 
Bay.  St.  Joseph  (Teanaustnye)  had  been  the  chief  town  of  the  HuroiiM,  and 
lay  on  the  southeastern  frontier  of  their  country  about  fifteen  miles  fn.iu 
Sainte  Marie.  Father  Daniel  had  labored  zealously  and  with  sucross  in  their 
midst.  On  the  fourth  of  July  he  had  just  finished  mass  in  the  mission  church  ; 
the  savages  were  still  kneeling  at  their  devotions,  when  smhlenly  the  cry 
arose  "The  Iroquois!  the  Iro<|Uois."  Daniel  lefuscd  to  fly.  His  flesh  was 
tnm  with  arrows,  a  ball  pierced  his  heart,  and  h-  fell  dead,  gasping  the  name 
of  Jesus.  The  savages  rushed  upon  him  with  yells  of  triumph,  stripped  and 
gashed  his  lifeless  body,  and  scoojiing  his  lilooil  in  their  hands,  bathed 
their  faces  in  it  to  make  them  brave.  "The  town  was  io  a  blaze  ;  when  the 
flames  reached  the  church,  they  flung  the  priest  into  it,  ,iid  both  were  con- 
sumed together.  Teanaustaye  was  a  heap  of  nshes,  and  the  victors  took  up 
their  march  with  a  train  of  nearly  seven  hundred  prisoners,  many  of  whom 
they  killed  on  their  way."  —  Ed. 


m^ 


I 


142  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1649 

towards  the  south-east;  al)out  three  miles  distant.  They 
looked  at  each  other  iu  dismay.  "  The  Iro<iuois  !  They  are 
burning  St.  l/juis ! "  Flames  mingled  with  the  smoke ;  and, 
as  Miey  stood  gazing,  two  Christian  Hurons  came,  breathless 
v.ad  aghast,  from  the  burning  town.  Their  worst  fear  was 
'■ealized.  The  InKjuois  were  there;  but  where  were  tlie 
priiists  of  the  mission,  lir»5beuf  and  Lalemant? 

l^te  in  tlie  autumn,  a  thousand  Iroquois,  chiefly  Senecas 
and  Mohawks,  hatl  taken  the  war-path  ior  the  llurons. 
Tliey  had  been  all  winter  in  the  forests,  hunting  for  sub- 
sistence, and  moving  at  their  leisure  towards  their  prey. 
The  destruction  of  tlic  two  towns  of  the  mission  of  St. 
Josepli  had  left  a  wide  gap,  and  in  the  middle  of  Marcli 
they  entered  the  heart  of  the  Huron  country,  undiscovered. 
Common  vigilance  and  common  sense  would  have  averted 
the  calamities  that  followed ;  but  tlie  llurons  were  like  a 
dfxuned  people,  stu[»efied,  sunk  in  dejection,  fearing  every- 
tliing,  yet  taking  no  measures  for  defence.  They  coidd 
easily  have  met  the  invaders  with  double  their  force,  but 
the  besotted  wairiui-s  lay  idle  in  their  towns,  or  hunted  at 
leisure  in  distant  forests;  nor  could  the  Jesuits,  by  counsel 
or  exhortation,  rouse  them  to  face  tlie  danger. 

IJefore  daylight  of  the  sixteenth,  the  invaders  approached 
St.  Ignace,  which,  with  St.  Louis  and  three  otlier  towns, 
formed  the  mission  of  the  same  name.  They  reconnoitred 
the  i)lace  in  tlie  darkness.  It  was  defended  on  three  sides 
by  a  deep  ravine,  and  further  strengthened  by  palisades 
fifteen  or  sixteen  feet  high,  jilanted  mider  tlie  direction  of 
the  Jesuits.  ( )n  the  fourth  side  it  was  protected  by  jiali- 
.sades  alone;  and  tliese  w»^re  left,  as  usual,  unguarded.  This 
was  not  from  a  sense  of  security  ;  fur  the  greater  j^iart  of  the 
pnpulation  had  abnndoneii  tlu'  tnwn,  tliinking  it  too  nuicli 


1649] 


Ruin  of  the  Hurons 


143 


exposed  to  the  enemy,  and  there  remained  only  about  four 
hundred,  chiefly  women,  children,  and  old  men,  whose 
infatuated  defenders  were  absent  hunting,  or  on  futile 
scalping-parties  against  the  Iroquois.  It  was  just  before 
dawn,  when  a  yell,  as  of  a  legion  of  devils,  startled  the 
wretched  inhabitants  from  their  sleep;  and  the  Irocjuois, 
bursting  in  upon  them,  cut  them  down  with  knives  and 
liatchei.),  killing  many,  and  reserving  the  rest  for  a  worse 
fate.  They  had  entered  by  the  weakest  side ;  on  the  other 
sides  there  was  no  exit,  and  only  three  Hurons  escaped. 
The  whole  was  the  work  of  a  few  minutes.  The  Iroquois 
left  a  guard  to  hold  the  town,  and  secure  the  retreat  of  the 
main  body  in  case  of  a  reverse ;  then,  smearing  their  faces 
with  blood,  after  their  ghastly  custom,  they  rushed,  in  the 
dim  light  of  the  early  dawn,  towards  St.  Louis,  about  a 
league  distant. 

The  three  fugitives  had  fled,  half  naked,  through  the 
forest,  for  the  same  pt)int,  which  they  reached  about  sunrise, 
yelling  the  alarm.  The  number  of  inhabitants  here  was 
less,  at  this  time,  than  seven  hundred ;  and,  of  these,  all 
who  had  strength  to  escape,  excepting  al)out  eighty  warriors, 
made  in  wild  terror  for  a  place  of  safety.  Many  of  the 
old,  sick,  and  decn-epir,  were  left  perforce  in  the  lodges.  The 
warridis,  ignorant  of  the  strength  of  the  assailants,  sang 
their  war-songs,  and  resolved  to  hold  (he  place  to  the  last. 
It  had  not  the  natural  strength  of  St.  Ignace ;  but,  like  it, 
was  surrounded  Ijy  palisades. 

Here  were  the  two  Jesuits,  l?i(?l»cuf  and  I^alemant.  lire- 
beuf's  converts  entreated  him  to  escape  with  them ;  but  the 
Norman  zeabtt,  bold  scion  of  a  warlike  stock,  had  no  thought 
of  flight.  His  post  was  in  the  teeth  of  danger,  to  cheer  on 
those  who  fought,  and  open  Heaven  to  those  who  fell.     His 


i!     ^  i 


P§li'. 


144  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1649 

colleague,  slight  of  frame  and  frail  of  constitution,  trembled 
despite  himf.elf ;  but  deep  enthusiasm  mastered  the  weakness 
of  Nature,  and  he,  too,  refused  to  fly. 

Scarcely  had  the  sun  risen,  and  scarcely  were  the  fugitives 
gone,  when,  like  a  twop  of  tigers,  the  Iroquois  rushed  to  the 
assault.     Yell  echoed  yell,  and  shot  answered  shot.     The 
Hurons,  brought  to  bay,  fought  with  the  utmost  desjieration, 
and  with  arrows,  stones,  and  the  few  guns  they  had,  killed 
thirty  of  their  assailants,  and  wounded  many  more.     Twice 
the  Iroipiois  recoiled,  and  twice  renewed  the  attack  with 
unabated  ferocity.     They  swarmed  at  the  foot  of  the  pali- 
sades, and  hacked  at  them  with  their  hatchets,  till  they  had 
cut  them  through  at  several  diil'erent    points.     For  a  time 
there  was  a  deadly  Hght  at  these  breaches.     Here  were  the 
two  p-icsts,  promising  Heaven  to  those  who  died  for  their 
faith,  — one  giving  baptism,  and  the  other  absoh'tion     At 
length  the  Iro.piois  broke  in,  and  captured  all  the  surviving 
defenders,  the  Jesuits  among  the  rest.     They  set  the  town 
on  tire ;  and  the  helpless  wretches  who  had  remained,  unable 
to  fly,  were  consumed  in   their  burning  dwellings.     Next 
they  fell  upon  P.rdbeuf  and  Lalemaut,  stripped  them,  bound 
them  fast,  and  led  them  with  the  other  prisoners  back  to 
SI.  Ignace,  where  all  turned  out  to  wreak  tlieir  fury  on  the 
two   priests,  K'ating   iheiu  savagely  with  sticks  and   clubs 
as  they  drove  llu'i.i  tnio  the  t.  wu.     At  present,  there  was 
no  time  for  furtlu"-  u.rt.u-e,  for  there  was  work  in  hand. 

The  victors  divided  then\sel\es  into  several  bands,  to  burn 
the  neighboring  villages  and  hunt  their  flying  inhabitants. 
In  the  flush  of  their  triumph,  they  meditated  a  bolder  enter- 
prise; and,  in  the  afternoon,  their  chiefs  sent  small  parties 
to  reconnoitre  Sainte  Marie,  with  a  view  to  attacking  it  ..a 
the  next  du\ . 


,6491  Ruin  of  the  Hurons  145 

Meanwhile  the  fuj^itives  «>f  St.  Louis,  joineil  hy  other 
]muls  as  terriHed  and  as  helpless  as  they,  were  stnii,'j,ding 
tlirough  the  soft  snow  whiili  (dogged  the  forests  towards 
Like  Huron,  wliere  the  treacherous  ice  i>f  spring  was  still 
unaieUetl.  One  fear  expelled  another.  "I,  .  ventureil  upon 
it,  and  pushed  forward  all  that  day  ai'  -a  the  following 
night,  shivering  ntvi  famished,  to  find  refuge  in  the  towns  of 
tlie  Toliaceo  Natii»n.  Here,  when  they  arrived,  the\  spread 
a  universal  f>anic, 

Ifagueneau.  liressani,  and  their  companions  waited  in  sus- 
]iense  at  Saiiile  Marie.  On  the  one  hantl,  they  tremlded  for 
Hreheuf  and  Lalemant ;  on  the  other,  they  looke.l  hourly  for 
an  attack  :  ami  when  at  evening  they  saw  the  Intquois  .sc(»uts 
prowling  along  the  edge  of  the  bordering  forest,  their  fears 
were  continued.  They  had  with  them  al>out  forty  Kreneli- 
nien,  well  armed ;  but  their  pali.sailes  and  wooden  buildings 
were  not  lire-pr(K)f,  and  they  had  learned  from  fugitives  the 
number  and  ferocity  of  the  invaders.  They  stood  guard  all 
night,  praying  to  the  Saints,  and  above  all  to  their  great 
j)atron,  Saint  Joseph,  whose  festival  was  close  at  hand. 

In  the  morning  they  were  somewhat  relieved  liy  the 
arrival  of  about  three  hundre<l  Huron  warriors,  chiefly  con- 
verts from  La  (Conception  and  Sainte  Madeleine,  t<ilerably  well 
armed,  and  full  of  tight.  They  were  exiieeting  others  to  join 
them;  and  meanwhile,  dividing  into  several  liands,  they  took 
])ost  by  the  }»asses  of  the  neighltoring  forest,  hoping  t<i  way- 
lay jiarties  of  the  enemy.  Thnr  expectation  was  fuitilled  ; 
for,  at  this  time,  two  hundre<l  of  the  Iroquois  were  making 
their  way  from  St.  Ignaee,  in  advance  of  the  main  body,  to 
begin  the  attack  on  Sainte  Marie.  They  fell  in  with  a  band 
of  the  Hurons,  set  ujhiu  them,  killed  many,  drove  the  rest 
to  headlong  flight,  and,  as  they  plunged  in  terror  through 

10 


146  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1649 

the  snow,  i-lia>t'(l  tliciii  within  s'v^hi  ol"  SainU!  Miirii'.  Tlio 
other  Ihiniiis,  hfaiiii;^  the  \AU  ami  tinii^',  ran  t.i  tin- 
resM-w,  ajnl  allai-kiMl  so  licn.'lv,  lliat  lii«'  ii  [iiois  in  turn 
were  routed,  am!  ran  for  sliclh  r  lo  y^.  Louis,  f.illowed  closely 
1>V  the  victors.  'I'lic  liouscs  of  the  town  hail  l>eeii  hurneil, 
Imt  the  ]>ali-ielc  aroiiuil  thcin  was  still  standin},',  thou<,'li 
breaclicd  and  I'roken.  Tiie  lr.H|uois  nislied  in;  bu'.  the 
Hurons  were  at  their  lu'el».  Many  of  the  fiijfitives  weie  i  aji- 
tin-ed,llie  rr-i  killed  i>r  pnt  to  utter  rout,  and  the  triuiniihant 
Humns  reniaiiuMl  masters  of  tiie  plai c. 

The  lroi|iiois  who  escaped  tied  to  St.  I;,nia<f.  Wew,  or  on 
tlu'  way  thither,  they  foun<l  the  main  body  of  the  invaders; 
and  when  they  heard  of  the  disaster,  the  whole  .swarm, 
beside  theiiist'lves  with  rage,  turneil  towards  St.  T-ouis  to 
take  their  revenge.  Now  ensued  one  of  the  nio.st  furious 
Indian  battles  on  record.  The  Hurons  within  the  palisade 
did  not  nnich  exceed  a  hundred  and  fifty;  for  many  had 
been  killed  or  disabled,  and  many,  perhaps,  had  straggled 
away,  ^bist  of  their  enemies  had  guns,  while  they  had  but 
few.  Their  weapons  were  l>ows  and  arrows,  war-clubs, 
hatchets,  and  knives;  and  of  these  they  made  good  use,  sal- 
lung  rei>eatedly,  lighting  like  devils,  and  ilriving  back  their 
assailants  again  and  again.  There  are  times  when  the 
Indian  warrior  forgets  his  cautious  maxims,  and  throws  him- 
self into  battle  with  a  mad  and  reckless  ferocity.  The  des- 
peration of  one  Jiarty,  and  the  tierce  (;ourage  of  both,  kept  up 
the  fight  after  the  da\  had  closed;  and  the  scout  from  Sainte 
Marie,  as  he  bent  listening  under  the  gloom  of  the  pines, 
heard,  far  into  the  night,  the  howl  of  battle  rising  from  the 
darkened  forest.  The  principal  chief  of  the  Inxjuois  was 
severelv  wounded,  and   nearly    a  hundred   of  tlieir  warriors 


were 


kill 


eu   on 


the  spot.     When,   at  length,  their  numbers 


i649]  Ruin  of  the  Hurons  147 

ami  |»oi»isteiit  fury  prevailetl,  llii'ir  only  prize  was  some 
tweuty  llumii  Wiirri  -s,  sihmiI  with  fatigue  and  faint  with 
li.ss  of  bliM)(l.  Tlio  n'.-.L  lay  (load  anmnd  the  shattered  pali- 
sides  which  tiu-y  had  so  valiantly  defended.  Fatuity,  not 
cowardice,  was  the  ruin  of  the  Huron  nation. 

The  lanii)s  burned  all  nij^ht  at  Sainte  Marie,  and  its  de- 
fenders .stood  watching  till  daylight,  niu.sket  in  hand.  The 
.lesuits  prayed  without  ceasing,  and  Saint  -losejih  was  he- 
.sieged  witli  invocations.  "  Those  of  us  who  were  priests," 
writes  IJagueneau, "  each  made  a  vow  to  say  a  mass  in  his 
honor  every  month,  for  the  space  of  a  year;  and  all  the 
rest  hound  thcniselvt-s  liy  vows  to  divers  ]ienances."  The 
e.\]>ectetl  ouslaugli'  old  not  take  i)lace.  Nol  an  Inxjuois  ap- 
peared. Their  victory  had  been  bought  too  dear,  and  ;hey 
had  no  stomach  for  more  fighting.  All  the  next  day,  the 
eighteenth,  a  stillness,  like  the  dead  lull  of  a  temitest,  fol- 
lowed the  turmoil  of  yesterday,  —  as  if,  .says  the  Father 
SujHirior,  "  the  country  were  waiting,  i)alsied  with  fright,  for 
sume  new  disaster." 

On  the  f(dlowing  day, — ^the  journalist  fails  not  to  mention 
that  it  was  the  festival  of  Saint  Jo.seph, —  Indians  came  in 
with  tithngs  that  a  panic  had  seized  the  Iroquois  camp,  that 
the  chiefs  could  not  control  it.  and  that  the  whole  body  of 
invaders  was  retreating  in  ilisoidcr.  jtossesseil  with  a  vague 
terror  that  the  Hurons  were  u]ton  them  in  force.  They  had 
found  time,  however,  for  an  act  of  atrocious  cruelty.  They 
jJanted  stakes  in  the  bark  houses  of  St.  Ignace,  and  ]M)und 
to  them  those  of  their  prisoners  whom  they  meant  t(»  sacri- 
fice, male  and  female,  from  old  age  to  infancy,  husliands, 
mothers,  and  children,  side  by  side.  Then,  as  they  retreated, 
they  set  the  town  on  lire,  and  laughetl  with  savage  glee  at 
the  shrieks  of  anguish  that  rose  from  the  blazing  dwellings. 


[i649 


148  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 

Tlicy  Idiuled  llie  rest  of  their  prisuners  with  their  hapsaf,'e 
aiitl  i-hiniU'r,  and  drove  them  thn.uph  the  forest  southward, 
Itraining  with  tlieir  lialchots  any  who  gave  out  on  the 
nmroh.  An  old  woman,  wlm  liad  escaped  out  of  the  midst 
(if  the  tlamcs  nf  St.  Igiiare,  made  her  way  to  St.  Michel,  a 
lar(,'e  town  not  far  fn.ni  the  desolate  site  of  St.  Joseph.  Here 
she  fovnid  alniut  seven  inindred  Huron  warriors,  hastily  mus- 
tered. She  -ct  them  nn  the  track  of  the  retreating  Iroquois, 
and  they  took  \\\>  the  chase.— but  evidently  with  no  great 
eagerness  to  overtake  their  dangerous  enemy,  well  armed  as  he 
wa^wiih  1  Hitch  guns,  while  tlicy  had  little  beside  their  bows 
and  arrows.  They  found,  as  they  advanced,  the  dead  Ixidies 
nf  i)risn!u'rs  lomahawkeil  on  the  march,  and  others  bound 
fast  to  trees  and  half  burned  l>y  the  fagois  piled  hastily 
around  them,  'i'he  Ikkiumis  pushed  for.vard  with  such 
lieadliing  speed,  that  I  he  jiursueis  cnuld  not,  or  would  not, 
overtake  them;  and,  after  two  days,  tliey  gave  over  the 
attemitt. 


.1 


1649] 


The  Martyrs 


149 


THE   MARTYRS* 


On  the  morning  of  the  twentieth,  the  Jesuits  at  Sainte 
Marie  received  full  contirniation  of  the  reported  retreat  of  the 
invaders ;  and  one  of  them,  with  seveQ  arrued  Frenchmen, 
set  out  for  the  scene  of  havoc.  Tiiey  passed  St.  Louis,  where 
the  bloody  ground  was  strown  thick  with  corpses,  and,  two 
or  three  miles  farther  on,  reached  St.  Ignace.  Here  they 
saw  a  hiHictacle  of  horror ;  for  among  the  ashes  of  the  burnt 
town  were  scattered  in  profusion  the  half-consumed  bodies 
of  those  who  had  perished  in  the  flames.  Apart  from  the 
rest,  they  saw  a  sight  that  banished  all  else  from  their 
thoughts;  for  they  found  what  they  had  come  to  seek, — 
the  scorched  and  mangled  relics  of  Br^beuf  and  Lalemant. 

They  had  learned  their  fate  already  from  Huron  prisoners, 
many  of  whom  had  made  their  escape  in  the  panic  and  con- 
fusion of  the  Iroquois  retreat.  They  descril)e.d  what  they 
had  seen,  and  the  condition  in  which  the  bodies  were  found 
confirmed  their  story. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  sixteenth,— the  day  when  the 
two  priests  were  captured, —  Brdbeuf  was  led  apart,  and 
bound  to  a  stake.  He  seeined  more  concerned  for  his  cap- 
tive converts  than  for  himself  and  addressed  them  in  a  loud 
voice,  exhortnig  them  to  suffer  patiently,  and  promising 
Heaven  as  their  reward.  The  Iroquois,  incensed,  scorched 
him  from  head  to  foot,  to  silenc-  him  ;  whereupon,  in  the 

iJUe  Jesuits  ir  Noit'a  Anicrun  ii.  the  Seventeonth  Ctntury,  Ch.  XXVIH 


It*    ,; 


150  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1649 

tone  <»f  a  nmsier,  he  lliri'iUciitMl  tlioni  with  everluHlinj;  tiaiiics, 
ft»r  iH'rsecutiiig  the  \v<>rshii>|K!rs  of  (Jotl.  As  lie  coiitirmi'd  to 
sjieak,  with  voice;  ami  couiitt'iianee  uiichaii'{otl,thi'y  cut  away 
his  lower  lip  and  thrust  a  retl-lmt  iron  down  his  throat,  lie 
still  held  his  tall  form  erect  and  detiant,  with  no  sign  or 
so\ii\d  of  pain;  and  they  tried  another  means  to  overcome 
him.  They  led  out  Lilemant,  that  Urebeuf  might  see  him 
tortured.  They  had  tied  stri[>s  of  l)ark,  smeared  with  i)itch, 
ahout  his  naked  hody.  When  he  .saw  the  condition  of  his 
Snjierior,  he  could  not  hide  his  agitation,  and  called  out  to 
him,  with  a  broken  voice,  in  the  words  of  Saint  Paul,  "  We 
are  made  a  spedatde  t(»  the  world,  to  angels,  and  to  men." 
Then  he  threw  himself  at  iWebeuf's  feet;  ujion  which  the 
Iro<|Uois  seized  him,  made  him  fast  to  a  stake,  ami  .set  tire 
to  die  hark  that  envelojted  him.  As  the  tlame  rose,  he  threw 
his  arms  upward  with  a  .shriek  of  supplication  to  Heaven. 
Next  they  hung  around  J'.r(?beuf's  neck  a  collar  made  of 
hatchets  heated  red-hot;  but  the  indomitable  jdiest  stottd 
like  a  rock.  A  Umon  in  the  crowd,  who  liad  been  a  con- 
vert of  the  mission,  but  was  now  an  Inxiuois  by  adoption, 
called  out,  with  the  malice  of  a  renegade,  to  pour  hot  water 
on  their  heads,  since  they  had  poured  so  much  cold  water  on 
those  of  olhei-s.  The  kettle  was  accordingly  slung,  and  the 
water  boiled  and  ]ioured  slowly  m  the  heads  of  the  two 
missionaries.  "  We  baptize  you,'  they  cried,  "  that  you  may 
be  happy  in  Heaven;  for  nobo»  ,  can  be  saved  without  a 
gooil  baptism."  Brc'-beuf  would  not  tlinch  ;  and,  in  a  rage, 
they  cut  strips  of  flesh  from  his  limbs,  and  devoured  them 
before  liis  eyes.  Other  renegade  Hurons  called  out  to  him, 
"  Vou  tohl  us,  that,  the  more  one  suffers  on  earth,  the  happier 
W  is  in  Heaven.  We  wish  to  make  you  happy;  we  torment 
you  because  we  love  you;  and  you  ought  to  thank  us  for  it." 


i649]  The  Martyrs  15* 

Afler  a  .successitiii  of  uilicr  revultiug  tttrtures,  tl>»'y  scalped 
him ;  when,  .seeing  him  nearly  dentl,  they  laid  t»jtfn  his 
breast,  and  came  iu  a  crowd  ti)  drink  the  Mood  of  so  valiunt 
an  enemy,  thinking  to  imbilnj  with  it  some  iH)rtion  of  his 
courage.     A  chief  tlien  tore  out  his  heart,  and  devoured  it. 

Thus  died  Jean  de  IJrelieuf,  the  founder  of  the  Huron 
mission,  its  truest  hero,  and  its  greatest  martyr.  He  came 
of  a  noble  race,  —  the  same,  it  is  said,  from  which  sj)nuig  the 
Knglish  Karls  of  Arundel;  but  never  had  the  mailed  barons 
of  his  line  confronted  a  fate  so  appalling,  with  so  prtnligious 
a  constancy.  To  the  last  he  refused  to  flinch,  and  "  his 
death  was  the  astonishment  of  his  nunderers."  In  him  an 
enthusiastic  devotion  was  grafted  on  an  heroic  nature.  His 
bodily  endowments  were  as  remarkable  as  the  temjier  of  his 
mind.  His  manly  proportions,  his  strength,  and  his  endur- 
ance, which  incessant  fasts  and  jHjnances  could  not  under- 
mine, had  always  won  for  him  the  respect  of  the  Indians, 
no  less  than  a  courage  unconscious  of  fear,  and  yet  redeemed 
from  rashness  by  a  cool  and  vigorous  judgment;  for,  extrava- 
gant as  were  the  chimeras  which  fed  thu  fires  of  his  zeal, 
they  were  consistent  with  the  soberest  ^  d  sense  on  matters 
of  practical  i)earing. 

Lalemant,  physically  weak  from  childli..od,  and  slender 
almost  to  emaciation,  was  constitutionally  unequal  to  a  dis- 
play of  fortitude  like  that  of  his  colleague.  When  Br(5beuf 
died,  he  was  led  back  to  tlie  house  whence  he  had  been 
taken,  and  tortured  there  all  night,  until,  in  the  morning, 
one  of  the  Iroquois,  growing  tired  of  the  protracted  enter- 
tainment, killed  him  with  a  hatchet.  It  was  said,  that,  at 
times,  he  seemed  beside  himself ;  then,  rallying,  with  hands 
uplifted,  he  offered  his  sufTerings  to  Heaven  as  a  sacrifice. 
His  robust  companion  had  lived  less  than  four  hours  under 


• 


152  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1649 

the  torture,  wliile  he  surviveti  it  for  nearly  sevenieen.  I'er- 
hajw  the  Titanic  effort  of  will  with  which  IJivlieuf  repress«Ml 
all  show  of  sufTering  consjiire*!  with  the  lro(iiu)is  knives  and 

firebrands  to  exhaust  liis  vitality  ; 
i^^\  I»erha|is  his  tormentors,  enraged 

MMUH  at  his  fortitude,  forgot  their  sub- 

■9h  tlety,  and  struck  tt  onear  the  life. 

^««^^^^^k^  'I'he  bodies  of  the  two  mission- 

aries were  carried  to  Sainte  ^larie, 
and  buried  in  ilie  cemetery  there  ; 
but  the  skull  of  Urebeuf  was  pre- 
served as  a  relic.  His  family 
sent  fn  >m  France  a  silver  bust  of 
their  martyred  kinsman,  in  the 
base  of  which  was  a  recess  to  contain  the  skull ;  and,  to  this 
day,  the  bust  and  the  relic  within  are  preserved  with  pious 
care  by  the  nuns  of  the  HOtel-Dieu  at  Quebec. 


mm^^. 


\  •ijff'^ 


Jtan  lU'  Brehix/ 


i  ^^ 


if; 


1649] 


Failure  of  the  Jesuits 


»53 


FAILURE  OF  THE  JESUITS* 


With  the  fall  of  the  Ilurons,  fell  the  best  hope  of  the 
Canadian  mission.  They,  and  the  stable  and  populous  com- 
munities around  them,  had  been  the  rude  material  from 
which  the  Jesuit  would  have  formed  his  Christian  empire  in 
the  wildemcs-^  but,  one  by  one,  these  kindred  peoples  were 
uprooted  and  swept  away,  while  the  neighboring  Algonquins, 
to  whom  they  had  been  a  bulwark,  were  involved  with  them 
in  a  common  ruin.  The  land  of  promise  was  turned  to  a 
solitude  and  a  desolation.  There  was  still  work  in  hand,  it 
ia  true,  —  vast  regions  to  explore,  and  countless  heathens  to 
snatch  from  perdition ;  but  these,  for  the  most  part,  were  re- 
mote and  scattered  hordes,  from  whose  conversion  it  was 
vain  to  look  for  the  same  solid  and  decisive  results. 

In  a  measure,  the  occupation  of  the  Jesuits  was  gone. 
Some  of  them  went  home,  "well  resolved,'  writes  the  Father 
Superior, "  to  return  to  the  combat  at  the  first  sound  of  the 
trumpet ; "  while  of  those  who  remained,  about  twenty  in 
number,  several  soon  fell  victims  to  famine,  hardship,  and 
the  Iroquois.  A  few  years  more,  and  Canada  ceased  to  be  a 
mission ;  political  and  commercial  interests  gradually  became 
ascendant,  and  the  story  of  Jesuit  propagandism  was  inter- 
woven with  her  civil  and  military  annals. 

1  The  Jesuits  in  North  Anuerica  in  the  Seventeenth  Century,  Ch.  XXXIV. 


MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  one   ISO  TEST  CHART  No    2) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


■  50 

■Wft 


IIIIM 

m 


1.4 


2.5 
2.2 

2.0 


1.8 


1.6 


A  APPLIED  IM/IGE     Inc 

^^  1653   Ea?'    Wa  n    itree! 

S^a  ffochesrer,    Ne*    ^Ofl-         '4609        USA 

'"SS;  (716)   482  -   0300  -  Phone 

^S  ("61    ?88  "  5989  -  rax 


154  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1649 

Here,  then,  closes  this  wihl  and  bloody  act  of  tJie  great 
drama  of  New  France ;  and  now  let  the  curtain  fall,  while 
we  ponder  its  meaning. 

The  cause  of  the  failure  of  the  Jesuits  is  obvious.     The 
gims  and  tomahawks  of  the  Iroquois  were  the  ruin  of  their 
hopes.     Could  they  have  curbed  or  converted  those  ferocious 
bands,  it  is  little  less  than  certain  that  their  dream  woidd 
have  become  a  reality.     Savage-  tamed  —  not  civilized,  for 
that  was  scarcely  possible  —  would  have  been  di.stributed  in 
communities  through  the  valleys  of  the  Great  Lakes  and  the 
Mississippi,  ruled  by  priests  in  the  hiterest  of  Catholicity 
and  of  France.     Their  habits  of  agriculture  would  have  been 
developed,  and  their  instincts  of  nmtual  slaughter  repressed. 
The  swift  decline  of  the  Indian  population  woidd  have  been 
arrested ;  and  it  would  have  been  made,  through  the  fur- 
trade,  a  source  of  prosperity  to  New  France.     Unmolested 
by  Indian  enemies,  and  fed  by  a  rich  commerce,  she  would 
have  put  forth  a  vigorous  growth.     True  to  her  far-reaching 
and  adventurous  genius,  she  would  have  occupied  the  West 
with  traders,  settlers,  and  garrisons,  and  cut  up  the  virgin 
wilderness  into  Hefs,  while  as  yet  the  colonies  of  England 
were  but  a  weak  and  broken  line  along  the  shore  of  the 
Atlantic ;  and  when  at  last  the  great  conflict  came,  England 
and  Liberty  would  have  been  confronted,  not  by  a  depleted 
antagonist,  still  feeble  from  the  exhaustion  of  a  starved  and 
persecuted  infancy,  Imt  by    an    athletic   champion  of    tlie 
principles  of  Kichelieu  and  of  Loyola. 

Liberty  may  thaidc  the  Iroquois,  that,  by  their  insensate 
fury,  the  plans  of  her  adversary  were  brought  to  nought,  and 
a  peril  and  a  woe  averted  from  her  future.  They  ruined  the 
trade  which  was  the  life-blood  of  New  France ;  they  stopj^ed 
the  current  of  her  arteries,  and  made  all  her  early  years  a 


1653-1658]  Failure  of  the  Jesuits  155 

misery  aud  a  tenor.  Not  that  they  changed  her  destinies. 
The  contest  on  this  continent  between  Liberty  and  Absolu- 
tism was  never  doubtful ;  but  the  triumpli  of  the  one  would 
have  been  dearly  l)()uglit,  and  the  downfall  of  the  other  in- 
complete. Populations  formed  in  the  ideas  and  habits  of  a 
feudal  monarcliy,  and  controlled  by  a  hierarcliy  profoundly 
hostile  to  freedom  of  lliought,  would  have  remained  a  hin- 
drance and  a  stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  that  majestic 
experiment  of  which  America  is  the  field. 

The  Jesuits  saw  their  hopes  struck  down  ;  and  their  faith, 
though  not  shaken,  was  sorely  tried.  The  Providence  of  God 
seemed  in  their  eyes  dark  and  inexplicable ;  but,  from  the 
stand-point  of  Liberty,  that  Providence  is  clear  as  the  sun  at 
noon.  ^leanwhile  let  those  wlio  have  prevail. -d  yield  due 
honor  to  the  defeated.  Their  virtues  shine  amidst  the  rubbish 
of  error,  like  diamonds  aud  gold  in  the  gravel  of  the  torrent. 

[In  1653  a  tempoiary  peace  waa  patched  up  between  tlie 
French  and  the  Iroquois.  In  order  to  obtain  a  lasting  in- 
fluence over  this  dangerous  race  a  Jesuit  mission  was  estab- 
lished in  1656  among  the  Onondagas,  the  central  tribe  of 
the  five  nation  confederacy.  "  The  Jesuits,"  says  Parkman, 
"had  essayed  a  fearful  task,  to  convert  the  Troipiois  to 
Crod  and  to  tlic  king,  thwart  the  Dutcli  heretics  of  the 
Hudson,  save  sotds  from  hell,  avert  ruin  from  Cinada,  aud 
thus  raise  their  order  to  a  place  of  honor  and  iuHuonce  both 
hard  earned  and  well  earned.  Tlie  mission  at  lake  Onon- 
daga was  but  a  base  of  opeiations."  * 

The  desperate  enterprise  was  doomed  to  failure.  Within 
two  years  the  situation  of  the  Jesuits  was  perilous  in  the 
extreme.     The  Mohawks  by  murder  and  pillage  had  openly 

'  Tlie  OKI  RiM,'ime  in  Canada,  (.h.  IV. 


p 

i : 

5" 


156  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1655 

defied  the  French,  and  the  missionaries  heard  ominous 
rumors  that  thr '  death  had  been  decreed.  They  deter- 
mined to  escaj  .-,  and  as  forceful  means  were  beyond  their 
power,  they  resorted  to  a  device  which  the  gluttonous  habits 
of  the  Indians  alone  rendered  possible  of  success.  The  Jesuit 
fathers  invited  all  the  warriors  to  a  sumptuous  banquet  where 
the  laws  of  hospitality  demanded  that  the  guests  should  eat 
whatever  was  placed  before  thera.  At  midnight,  when  they 
were  sleeping  stupefied  with  bestial  excess,  the  Jesuits  silently 
withdrew  and  cautiously  descended  to  the  shore,  where  their 
comrades,  already  embarked,  lay  on  their  cars  anxiously 
awaiting  them.  When  the  Indians  woke  in  the  morning 
their  ghostly  hosts  had  vanished.  —  Ed.] 


.!l 


i66o]  The  Heroes  of  the  Long  Saut  157 


THE  HETIOES  OF  THE  LONG   SAUT' 


In  April,  1660,  before  the  designs  of  the  Iroquois  were 
known,  a  young  officer  named  Daulac,'  comroandant  of  the 
garrison  of  Montreal,  asked  leave  of  Maisonneuve,  the  gover- 
nor, to  lead  a  party  of  volunteers  against  the  enemy.  His 
plan  was  bold  to  desperation.  It  was  known  that  Iroquois 
warriors  in  gi'eat  numbers  had  wintered  among  the  forests  of 
the  Ottawa.  Daulac  proposed  to  waylay  them  on  their 
descent  of  the  river,  and  fight  them  without  regard  to  dis- 
parity of  force.  The  settlers  of  Montreal  had  hitherto  acted 
solely  on  the  defensive,  for  their  numbers  had  been  too  small 
for  aggressive  war.  Of  late  their  strength  had  been  some- 
what increased,  and  Maisonneuve,  judging  that  a  display  of 
enterprise  and  boldness  might  act  as  a  check  on  the  audacity 
of  the  enemy,  at  length  gave  his  consent. 

Adam  Daulac,  or  Dollard,  Sieur  des  Ormeaux,  was  a  young 
man  of  good  family,  who  had  come  to  the  colony  three  years 
before,  at  the  age  of  twenty-two.  He  had  held  some  military 
command  in  France,  though  in  what  rank  does  not  appear. 
It  was  said  that  he  had  been  involved  in  some  affair  which 
made  him  anxious  to  wipe  out  the  memory  of  the  past  by  a 
noteworthy  exploit;  and  he  had  been  busy  for  some  time 
among  the  young  men  of  Montreal,  inviting  them  to  join 
him  in  the  enterprise  he  meditated.    Sixteen  of  them  caught 


J  The  Old  Regime  in  Canada,  CIi.  VI. 

*  Sometimes  this  name  is  spelled  "  Dollard."  ■ 


Ed. 


Oi 


7.1 
ill 


158  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [iteo 

his  spirit,  struck  hands  with  him,  and  pledged  their  word. 
They  bound  themselves  by  oath  to  accept  no  quarter ;  and, 
having  gained  Maisonneuve's  consent,  they  made  their  wills, 
confessed,  and  received  the  sacraments.  As  they  knelt  for 
the  last  time  before  the  altar  in  the  chapel  of  the  Holel- 
Dieu,  that  sturdy  lili  ■  population  of  pious  Indian-figliteis 
gazed  on  them  with  enthusiasm,  not  unmixed  with  an  envy 
which  had  in  it  nothing  ignoble.  Some  of  the  chief  men  of 
Montreal,  with  the  brave  Charles  Le  Moyne  at  their  head, 
begged  them  to  wait  till  the  spring  sowing  was  over,  that 
they  might  joii'  them  ;  but  Daulac  refused.  lie  was  jealous 
of  the  glory  and  the  danger,  and  he  wished  to  command, 
which  he  could  not  have  done  had  Le  Moyne  been  present. 

The  spirit  of  the  enterprise  was  purely  mediieval.  The 
enthusiasm  of  honor,  the  enthusiasm  of  adventure,  and  the 
enthusiasm  of  faith,  were  its  motive  forces,  Daulac  was  a 
knight  of  the  early  crusades  among  the  forests  and  savages 
of  the  New  World.  Yet  the  incidents  of  this  exotic  heroism 
are  definite  and  clear  as  a  tale  of  yesterda}-.  The  names, 
ages,  and  occupations  of  the  seventeen  young  men  may  still 
be  read  on  the  ancient  register  of  the  parish  of  Montreal ; 
and  the  notarial  acts  of  that  year,  preserved  in  the  records  of 
the  city,  contain  minute  accounts  of  such  property  as  each 
of  them  possessed.  The  three  eldest  were  of  twenty-eight, 
thirty,  and  thirty-one  years  respectively.  The  age  of  the 
rest  varied  from  twenty-one  to  twenty-seven.  They  were 
of  various  callings,  —  soldiers,  armorers,  locksmiths,  lime- 
burners,  or  settlers  without  trades.  The  greater  number  had 
come  to  the  colony  as  part  of  the  reinforcement  brought  by 
Maisonneuve  in  1653. 

After  a  solemn  farewell  they  emliarked  in  several  canoes 
well  supplied  with  arms  and  ammunition.     They  were  very 


i66o|  The  Heroes  of  the  Long  Saut  159 

indifferent  canoe-men ;  and  it  is  said  that  they  lost  a  week 
in  vain  attempts  to  pass  the  switt  current  of  St.  Anne,  at  the 
head  of  the  island  of  Montreal.  At  length  they  were  more 
successful,  and  entering  the  mouth  of  the  Ottawa,  crossed 
the  I^ke  of  Two  Mountains,  and  slowly  advanced  against 
the  current. 

Meanwhile,  forty  warriors  of  that  remnant  nf  llu'  Hurons 
who,  in  spite  of  InKpiois  pei'secutions,  still  lingered  at  Que- 
l>ee,  had  s^et  out  on  a  war-party,  led  by  the  brave  and  wily 
fitieii.ie  Amiahotalia,  their  most  noted  ehief.  They  stopped 
by  the  way  at  Three  IJivers,  where  they  found  a  baud  of 
Christian  AlgoiKjuins  under  a  chief  named  Mituvemeg. 
Aiuiahotaha  challenged  him  to  a  trial  of  courage,  ami  it  was 
agreed  that  they  should  meet  at  Montieal,  where  they  were 
likely  to  (ind  a  sjieedy  opportunity  of  putting  their  m(  .le  to 
the  test.  Thither,  accordingly,  they  repaired,  the  Algoncjuiu 
with  three  followers,  and  the  Huron  with  thirty-nine. 

It  was  not  long  before  they  learned  the  ileparture  of  Daulac 
and  his  companions.  "  For,"  observes  the  honest  DoUier  de 
Casson,  "  the  principal  fault  of  our  Fren.chmen  is  to  talk 
too  much."  The  wish  seized  them  to  .share  the  adventure, 
and  to  that  end  the  Huron  chief  asked  the  governor  for 
a  letter  to  Daulac,  to  serve  as  credentials.  Maisonneuve 
hesitated.  His  faith  in  Huron  valor  was  not  great,  and  he 
feared  the  pro^wsed  alliance.  Nevertheless,  he  at  length 
yielded  so  far  as  to  give  Annahotaha  a  letter  in  which 
Daulac  was  told  to  accept  or  reject  the  proffered  reinforce- 
ment as  he  should  see  fit.  The  Hurons  and  Algonquins 
now  embarked  and  paddled  in  pursuit  of  the  s-^venteen 
Frenchmen. 

They  meanwhile  had  passed  with  ditticulty  the  swift  cur- 
rent at  Carillon,  and  about  the  first  of  Mav  reached  the  f(K)t 


I 


1 60  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [ibso 

uf  the  more  formidable  rapid  calleil  tlip  Long  Saut,  where  u 
tumult  of  waters,  foaming  among  ledges  and  bo  uuers,  liantnl 
the  onward  way.  It  was  needless  to  go  farther.  The  Iro- 
quois were  sure  to  pass  the  Saut,  anu  could  be  fought  l\ere 
as  well  as  elsewhere.  Just  IhjIow  the  rapid,  where  the  forests 
sloj>ed  gently  to  the  shore,  among  the  bushes  and  stumi>s  of 
the  rougli  clearing  made  in  constructing  it,  stood  a  palisade 
fort,  the  work  of  an  Algor  n  war-party  in  the  past  autumn. 
It  was  a  mere  enclosure  .runks  of  small  trees  planted  in 
a  ciide,  and  was  already  ruhious.  Such  as  it  was,  the 
Frenchmen  took  jiossession  of  it.  Their  first  care,  one  would 
think,  should  have  been  to  repair  and  strengthen  it ;  but  tliis 
they  seem  not  to  have  done ;  i>ossibIy,  in  the  exaltation  of 
their  minds,  they  scorned  such  jn-ecaution.  They  made  their 
lires,  and  slung  their  kettles  on  the  neighboring  shore ;  and 
here  they  were  soon  joined  by  the  Ilurons  and  Algoncjuins. 
Daulac,  it  seems,  made  no  objection  to  their  company,  and 
they  all  bivouacked  together.  Morning  and  noon  and  night 
they  i»rayed  in  three  diflerent  tongues ;  and  when  at  sunset 
the  long  reach  of  forests  on  the  farther  shore  basked  peace- 
fully in  tlie  level  rays,  the  rai)id3  joined  tlieir  hoarse  music 
to  the  notes  of  their  evening  hymn. 

In  a  day  or  two  their  scouts  came  in  with  tidings  that  two 
Iroquois  canoes  were  coming  down  the  Saut.  Daulac  had 
time  to  set  his  men  in  ambush  among  the  bushes  at  a  point 
where  lie  thought  tlie  strangers  likely  to  land.  He  judged 
aright.  The  canoes,  bearing  five  Iroquois,  approached,  and 
were  met  Ijy  a  volley  fired  with  such  precipitation  that  one 
or  more  of  them  escaped  the  shot,  fled  into  the  forest,  and 
told  their  misdiance  to  their  main  body,  two  hundred  in 
number,  on  the  river  above.  A  fleet  of  canoes  suddenly 
appeared,  bounding  dtnvn    the  rapids,  filled   with    warriors 


i6«oi  The  Heroes  of  the  Long  Saut  i6i 

eager  for  revenge.  The  allies  had  barely  time  to  escai>e 
to  their  fort,  leaving  their  kettles  still  slung  over  the 
fires.  The  Irociuois  made  a  hasty  and  desultory  attack,  and 
were  quickly  re[iulsed.  Tliey  next  oi)ened  a  parley,  hoping, 
no  doubt,  to  gain  some  advantage  by  surprise.  Failing  in 
this,  they  set  themselves,  after  their  custom  on  such  occa- 
sions, to  building  a  rude  fort  of  their  own  in  the  neighboring 
forest. 

This  gave  the  French  a  breathing-time,  and  they  used  it  for 
strengthening  their  defences.  lieing  provided  with  tools, 
they  planted  a  row  of  stakes  within  then-  palisade,  to  form  a 
double  fence,  and  fdled  the  intervening  space  with  earth  and 
stones  to  the  height  of  a  man,  leaving  some  twenty  loop-holes, 
at  each  of  which  three  marksmen  were  stationed.  Their 
work  was  still  unfinished  when  the  Iroquois  were  upon  them 
again.  Tliey  had  broken  to  pieces  the  birch  canoes  of  the 
French  and  their  allies,  and,  kindling  the  bark,  rushed  up  to 
pile  it  blazing  against  the  palisade  ;  but  so  brisk  and  steady 
a  fire  met  them  that  the>  recoiled  and  at  last  gave  way. 
They  came  on  again,  and  again  were  driven  back,  leaving 
many  of  their  number  on  the  ground,  among  them  the  prin- 
cipal chief  of  the  Senecas.  Some  of  the  French  dashed  out, 
and,  covered  by  the  fire  of  their  comrades,  hacKC-l  off  his 
head,  and  stuck  it  on  the  palisade,  while  the  Iroquois  howled 
in  a  frenzy  of  helpless  rage.  They  tried  another  attack,  and 
were  beaten  off  a  third  time. 

This  dashed  their  spirits,  and  they  sent  a  canoe  to  call  to 
their  aid  five  hundred  of  their  warriors  who  were  mustered 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Eichelieu.  These  were  the  allies 
whom,  but  for  this  untoward  check,  they  were  on  their  way 
to  join  for  a  combined  attack  oa  Quebec,  Three  Rivers,  and 
Montreal.     It  was  maddening  to   see  their  grand   project 

11 


m 


!i;^ 


i, 


162  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (leeo 

thwarted  by  a  few  Kioii(!li  and  Indians  i-nscunced  in  a  paltry 
redoubt,  scarcely  better  than  a  cattle-pen;  but  they  were 
forced  to  dij,'est  the  afl'ront  as  best  they  niij,dit. 

Meanwhile,  crtiuched  behind  trees  and  loj,'s.  ihey  beset  the 
fttrt,  harassing  its  defenders  day  and  nigh.t  with  a  spattering 
fire  and  a  constant  menace  of  attack.  Tlius  five  days  passed. 
Hunger,  thirst,  and  want  of  sleep  wrought  fatally  on  the 
strength  of  the  French  and  their  allies,  who,  pent  uj)  together 
in  their  narrow  prison,  fought  and  prayed  by  turns.  De- 
prived as  they  were  of  water,  they  could  not  swallow  the 
crushed  In.liau  corn,  or  "hominy,"  whicli  was  tiieir  only 
food.  Some  of  them,  under  cover  of  a  brisk  fire,  ran  down  to 
the  river  and  filled  such  small  vessels  as  they  had  ;  but  this 
pittance  only  tantalizeil  their  thirst.  They  dug  a  hole  in  the 
fort,  and  were  rewarded  at  last  by  a  little  nmdily  water 
oozing  through  the  clay. 

Among  the  assailants  were  a  number  of  Hurona,  adopted 
by  the  Iroquois  and  fighting  on  their  side.  These  renegades 
now  shouted  to  their  countrymen  in  the  fort,  telling  them 
that  a  fresh  army  was  close  at  hand  ;  that  they  would  soon 
be  attacked  by  seven  or  eight  hundred  warriors ;  and  that 
their  only  hope  was  in  joining  the  Iro(|uois,  who  would 
receive  them  as  friends.  Annahotaha's  followers,  half  dead 
with  thirst  and  famine,  listened  to  their  seducers,  took  the 
bait,  and,  one,  two,  or  three  at  a  time,  climbed  the  palisade 
and  ran  over  to  the  enemy,  amid  the  hootingsand  execrations 
of  those  whom  they  deserted.  Their  chief  stood  firm ;  and 
when  he  saw  his  nephew,  La  Mouche,  join  the  other  fugi- 
tives, he  fired  his  pistol  at  him  in  a  rage.  The  four  Algon- 
quins,  who  had  no  mercy  to  hope  for,  stood  fast,  with  the 
courage  of  despair. 

On  the  fifth  day  an  uproar  of  uneartlily  yells  from  seven 


iMo]  The  Heroes  of  the  Long  Saut  163 

humlred  savage  throats,  mingled  witli  a  clattering  salute  of 
musketry,  told  the  Frenchmen  that  the  fcX{)ected  reinforce- 
ment had  come;  and  soon,  in  the  forest  and  on  the  clearing, 
a  crowd  of  warriors  mustered  for  the  attack.  Knowing  from 
the  Hu..)n  deserters  the  weakness  of  their  enemy,  they  had 
no  doubt  of  an  easy  victory.  They  advan(!ed  cautiously,  as 
was  usual  with  the  Iroquois  before  their  blood  was  up, 
screeching,  leaping  from  .side  to  side,  and  firing  as  they  came 
on  ;  but  the  French  were  at  their  posts,  and  every  loophole 
darted  its  tongue  of  tire.  Besides  muskets,  they  had  heavy 
musketoons  of  large  calibre,  which,  scattering  scraps  of  lead 
and  iron  among  tlie  throng  of  savages,  often  maimed  several 
of  them  at  one  discharge.  The  Iroquois,  astonished  at  the 
persistent  vigor  of  the  defence,  fell  back  discomfited.  The 
tire  of  the  French,  who  were  themselves  completely  under 
cover,  had  told  upon  them  with  deadly  effect.  Three  days 
more  wore  away  in  a  series  of  futile  attacks,  made  with 
little  concert  or  vigor ;  and  during  all  this  time  Daulac  and 
his  men,  reeling  with  exhaustion,  fought  and  prayed  as 
before,  sure  of  a  martjT's  reward. 

The  uncertain,  vacillating  temper  common  to  all  Indians 
now  began  to  declare  itself.  Some  of  the  Iroquois  were  for 
going  home.  Others  revolted  at  the  thought,  and  declaicd 
that  it  would  be  an  eternal  disgrace  to  lose  so  many  men  at 
tlie  hands  of  so  paltry  an  enemy,  and  yet  fail  to  take 
revenge.  It  was  resolved  to  make  a  general  assault,  and  vol- 
unteei"s  were  called  for  to  lead  the  attack.  After  the  custom 
on  such  occasions,  bundles  of  small  sticks  were  thrown  upon 
he  ground,  and  those  picked  them  up  who  dared,  thus 
accepting  the  gage  of  battle,  and  enrolling  themselves  in 
the  forlorn  hoj)e.  No  precaution  was  neglected.  Large  and 
heavy  shields  four  or  five  feet  high  were  made  by  lashing 


Uki, 


164  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1660 

together  three  split  lops  witlj  the  aid  c»f  cix)ss-bars.  t'over- 
iiij,'  llieniselvi's  with  these  maiiielels,  the  chttsen  band  ad- 
vanced, followeci  bv  the  nmth'y  Ihiong  of  wan-iors.  In  spite 
of  a  brisk  fire,  Ihey  reatlicd  the  palisade,  and,  crou(!hing 
lielow  the  ran;,'e  of  .shot,  hfwcd  furiously  with  their  hatchets 
to  cut  their  way  throujrli.  'j'he  rest  followed  close,  and 
swarmed  like  an^ry  hornets  around  the  little  fort,  hacking 
atid  tearing  to  get  in. 

Dauhic  had  craninied  a  large  mu.sketoon  with  powder,  and 
plugged  up  the  nnjzzk>.     Lighting  the  fuse  in.serted  in  it,  he 
tri(  il  to  throw  it  over  the  barrier,  to  burst  like  a  grenade 
among  the  crowd  of  savages   witliout;    but  it   struck   the 
ragged  top  of  one  of   tlie  ])ali.sade.s,  fell   liack  among  the 
Frenchmen  and  exploded,  killing  and  wounding  several  uf 
them,  an<l  nearly   blinding  others.     In  tlie  confusion  that 
followed,   the   Iroquois    got    possession   of   the    loopholes, 
and,  thrusting  in  their  guns,  Jired  on  those  within.     In  a 
m<jment  more  they  had  torn  a  brea.li  in  the  palisade;  but, 
nerved  with  the  energy  of  desperation,  Daulac  and  his  fol- 
lowers sprang  to  defend  it.     Another  breach  was  made,  and 
then  another.     Daulac  was  struck  dead,  but  the  survivors 
kept  up  the  figlit.     With  a  sword  or  a  hatchet  in  one  hand 
and  a  knife  in  the  other,  they  threw  them.selves  against  the 
throng  of  enemies,  striking  and  stabbing  with  the  fury  of  mad- 
men ;  till  the  Iroipiois,  despairing  of  taking  them  alive,  fired 
volley  after  volley  and  shot  them  down.     All  was  over,  and  a 
burst  of  triumphant  yells  proclaimed  the  dear-bought  victorj'. 
Searching  the  pile  of   corpses,  the   victors  found  four 
Frenchmen  still  breathing.     Three  had  scarcely  a  spark  of 
life,  and,  as  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  they  burned  them  on  the 
spot.     The  fourth,  less  fortunate,  seemed  likely  to  survive, 
and   they   reserved  him  for  future  torments.     As   for  the 


i66o]  The  Heroes  of  the  Long  Saut  165 

Huron  deserters,  their  cowardice  profited  them  little.  The 
Iroquois,  regardless  of  their  promises,  fell  upon  them,  burned 
some  at  once,  and  carried  the  rest  to  their  villages  for  a 
similar  fate.  Five  of  the  number  had  the  good  fortune  to 
escape,  and  it  was  from  them,  aided  by  admissions  made  long 
afterwards  by  the  Iroquois  themselves,  that  the  French  of 
Canada  derived  all  their  knowledge  of  this  glorious  disaster. 
To  the  colony  it  proved  a  salvation.  The  Iroquois  had  had 
fighting  enougli.  If  seventeen  Frenchmen,  four  Algonquins, 
and  one  Huron,  behind  a  picket  fence,  could  hold  seven 
hundred  warriors  at  bay  so  long,  what  might  they  expect 
from  many  such,  fighting  behind  walls  of  stone  ?  For  that 
year  they  thought  no  more  of  capturing  Quebec  and  Mon- 
treal, but  went  home  dejected  and  amazed,  to  howl  over 
their  losses,  and  nurse  their  dashed  courage  for  a  day  of 
vengeance. 

[The  Old  Begime.  —  Before  turning  our  attention  to  the 
adventurous  career  of  La  Salle  and  the  exploration  of  the 
Great  West,  it  would  be  well  to  gain  some  idea  of  the  man- 
ner of  life  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  older  settlements  in  New 
France,  and  of  the  political  institutions  under  which  they 
were  governed. 

Colbert  had  taken  upon  himself,  subject  to  tlie  supreme 
authority  of  Louis  XIV.,  the  administration  of  Canada.  At 
home  his  reforms  were  salutary,  though  often  violent ;  but 
"it  is  in  his  commercial,  industrial,  and  colonial  policy 
that  the  profound  defects  of  the  great  minister's  system  are 
most  apparent,"  wrote  Parkman  in  «  The  Old  Regime."  It 
was  a  system  of  authority,  monopoly,  and  exclusion,  in 
which  the  government,  and  not  the  individual,  acted 
always  the   foremost  part.     Upright,  incorruptible,  ardent 


y 


^1. 


w 


1 


1 66  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1664 

for  the  public  good,  iutiexible,  arrogant,  aud  domineering, 
Colbert  sought  to  drive  France  into  paths  of  prosperity, 
and  create  colonies  by  the  energy  of  the  imperial  will.  He 
feared,  and  with  reason,  that  the  vvant  of  enterprise  and 
capital  among  the  merchants  would  prevent  the  broad  and 
immediate  results  at  which  he  aimed ;  and  to  secure  these 
results,  lie  established  a  series  of  great  trading  corporations, 

in  which  the  principles  of 
j>rivilege  and  exclusion  were 
pushed  to  their  utmost  limits. 
The  Company  of  the  Hun- 
dred Associates  had  been 
founded  in  1627  with  llich- 
elieu  at  its  head.  It  con- 
trolled the  trade  of  the 
coinitry,  except  the  fisheries, 
and,  subject  only  to  the  re- 
mote authority  of  the  king, 
it  exercised  sovereign  power 
in  New  France.  Under  its 
direction  the  colony  thrived 
but  ilL  At  the  time  when 
tliey  forfeited  their  charter  to  the  Crown,  in  1663,  the  whole 
French  population  in  Canada  scarcely  reached  2,500  souls. 
In  tliat  year,  Canada  was  constituted  a  Iloyal  Province,  and 
Louis  XI  \'.  exercised  a  paternal  sway  which  soon  manifested 
itself  in  tlie  expansion  of  trade,  and  in  a  remarkable  develop- 
ment of  immigration. 

Louis  XIV.  still  clung,  how»>ver,  to  the  Company  idea,  and 
close  upon  the  dissolution  of  the  Hundred  Associates  he  cre- 
ated the  new  Company  of  the  West  by  a  royal  edict  issued  on 
the  twenty-fourth  of  IMay,  1664.     "  Scarcely  waa  the  grand 


LoiiLs  XIV 


1666]  The  Heroes  of  the  Long  Saut  167 

machine  set  in  motion,"  writes  Parkman  in  "The  Old 
lidgime,"  "  when  its  directors  betrayed  a  narrowness  and 
blindness  of  policy  which  boded  the  enterprise  no  good. 
Canada  was  a  chief  sufferer.  Once  more,  bound  hand  and  foot, 
she  was  handed  over  to  a  selfish  league  of  merchants ;  monopoly 
in  trade,  monopoly  in  religion,  monopoly  in  government. 
Nobody  but  the  company  had  a  right  to  bring  her  the  neces- 
saries of  life ;  and  nobody  but  the  company  had  a  right  to 
exercise  the  traffic  which  alone  could  give  her  the  means  of 
paying  for  these  necessaries."  In  the  face  of  this  storm  of 
disapproval  even  the  king  was  forced  to  act.  The  privileges 
of  the  company  were  curtailed.  Their  power  to  name  tlie 
governor  and  the  intendant  was  revoked,  and  the  king,  in 

1665,  appointed  to  these  high  offices  Daniel  de  R^my,  Sieur 
de  Courcelle,  as  governor,  and  Jean  liaptiste  Talon,  as  inten- 
dant. But  before  appointing  rulers  for  Canada,  Louis  XIV. 
had  appointed,  as  representative  of  the  Crown  for  all  his 
American  domains,  the  Marquis  de  Tracy,  with  the  title  of 
lieutenant-general. 

The  Canadian  careers  of  Courcelle  and  Tracy  need  but 
briefly  occupy  our  attention.  W^ien  they  arrived  in  the 
colony  the  Iroquois  terror  was  at  its  height.  Courcelle  de- 
termined to  strike  a  killing  blow,  and  discomfiture,  if  not 
defeat,  was   the   result.     In  the  heart  of  winter,  January, 

1666,  he  led  his  expedition  to  the  head  waters  of  the 
Hudson  river.  They  mistook  the  route,  and  blundered  into 
the  Anglo-Dutch  settlements  about  Schenectady.  A  dis- 
heartened retreat  to  Canada  bore  every  evidence  of  disaster, 
with  men  dropping  out  to  perish  from  cold  and  starvation, 
and  the  vindictive  and  stealthy  Mohawks  dogging  the  line 
of  march. 

In  September  of  the  same  year  Tracy  led  the  attack  in 


I 


1 68  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [icee 

person.  This  time  the  route  was  unerringly  followeil  into 
the  heart  of  the  Mohawk  country.  When  he  retired,  he  left 
behind  him  a  waste  of  des(»lation  and  smouldering  ashes,  but 
the  foe  had  slipped  from  his  clutches. 

"Tracy's  work  was  done,"  says  Parknian,  "and  he  left 
Canada  with  the  glittering  noblesse  in  his  train.  Cour- 
celle  and  Talon  remained  to  nde  alone;  and  now  the 
great  experiment  was  begun,  raternal  royalty  would  trj- 
its  hand  at  building  up  a  colony,  and  Talon  was  its  chosen 
agent."!  — Ed.] 

>  The  Old  Keginio  in  Canada,  Ch.  XV. 


m 


1663-1763]       Canada  as  a  Royal  Province 


169 


CANADA  AS  A  ROiAL  PROVINCE » 


The  governor-general  and  the  intendant  of  '^anada  an- 
swered to  ,hose  of  a  French  province.  TLo  governor, 
excepting  in  tiie  earliest  period  of  the  colony,  was  a  military 
noble ;  in  most  cases  bearing  a  title  pmCl  so'  ;iiues  of  high 
rank.  The  intendant,  as  in  France,  was  usually  drawn  from 
the  ffeiis  de  robe,  or  legal  class.  The  mutual  relations  of  the 
two  otiicers  were  modified  by  the  circumstances  abou'v  the-n. 
The  governor  was  superior  in  rank  to  the  intendant;  he 
comn:anded  the  troops,  conducted  relations  with  foreign 
countries  and  Indian  tribes,  and  took  precedence  on  all 
occasions  of  ceremony.  Unlike  a  provincial  governor  in 
France,  he  had  gieat  and  substantial  power  The  king  and 
the  minister,  his  sole  masters,,  were  \  thousand  leagues 
distant,  and  he  controlled  tae  whole  military  force.  If  he 
abused  his  position,  there  was  no  remedy  but  in  appeal  to 
the  court,  which  alone  con  II  hold  him  in  check.  There 
were  local  governors  at  Montreal  and  Three  Rivers;  but 
their  power  was  carefully  curbed,  and  they  were  forbidden 
to  fine  or  imprison  any  person  without  authority  from 
Quebec. 

The  intendant  was  virtually  a  spy  on  the  govemor-gfcL-.ral, 
of  whose  proceedings  and  of  e\'erything  else  that  took  place 
he  was  required  to  make  report.  Every  year  he  wrote  to  the 
minister  of  state,  one,  two,  three,  or  four  letters,  often  forty 

»  The  Old  Regime  iu  Canada,  Cli.  XIX. 


I  I 


170  Th';  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1M3-1763 


1663-1763)        Canada  as  a  Royal  Province  171 

or  fifty  pages  long,  filled  with  the  secrets  of  tlie  colony 
political  and   personal,  great   and  small,  set   forth   with   a 
niinutenesa  often  interesting,  often  instructive,  and  often  ex- 
cessr-ely  tedious.     The  governor,  too,  wrote  letters  of  piti- 
less  lengtl,;  and  each  of  the  clleagues  was  jealous  of  the 
letters  of  the  other.     In  truth,  their  relations  to  eacl,  other 
were   so   critical,  and  perfect  harmony  so  mre,  that   ti.ey 
nnght  almost  be  described  as  natural  enemies.     The  court 
It  IS  certah,,  did  not  desire  their  i.erfect  acconl ;  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  di.l  it  wish  then,  to  ,,uarrol :  it  aimed  to  keep 
them  on  such  terms  tliat,  without  deranging  the  machinery 
of  a.lmuustration,  each  should  be  a  check  on  the  otlu  r. 

The  governor,  the  inten.lant,  and  the  supreme  coimcil  or 
court,  were  absolute  masters  of  Canada  un.ler  the  pleasure 
of  the  king.     Legislative,  judicial,  and  executive  innver  all 
centred  in  them.     We  have  seen  ah-eady  the  very  unpromis- 
ing beginnnigs  of  the  supreme  council.     It  had  consisted  at 
first  of  the  governor,  the  bishop,  and  five  couucilh.rs  chosen 
by  them.     The  intendanf  was  soon  ad.led  to  f„rm  the  rulhig 
truimvirate;  but  the  appointnient  of  the  councillors,  the  oc- 
casion of  so  many  quarrels,  was  afterwards  exercised  by  the 
kmg  himself.     Even  the  name  of  the  council  underwent  a 
change  in  the  interest  of  his  autocracy,  and  he  commanded 
tliat  It  should  no  longer  be  called  tlie  Suiyrcmc,  but  only  the 
Superior  Council.     The  same  change  had  just  been  imposed 
on  all  the  liigli  tribunals  of  France.     I'nder  the  shadow  of 
tlie  fleur-tle-lis,  the  king  alone  was  to  be  supreme. 

In  167r.,  the  number  of  councillors  was  increased  to  seven, 
and  in  1703  it  was  again  increased  to  twelve;  but  tlie  char- 
acter of  the  council  or  court  remained  the  same.  It  issued 
decrees  for  the  civil,  commercial,  and  financial  government 
of  the  colony,  and  gave  judgment  hi  civil  and  crimuial  causes 


I 


K  ^y. 


172  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     (iM3-i7«3 

according  to  the  royal  ordinances  and  the  Coutume  de  Paris. 
It  exercised  also  the  function  of  registration  borrowed  from 
the  Parliament  of  Paris.  That  body,  it  will  be  remembered, 
had  no  analogy  whatever  with  the  English  Parliament.  Its 
ordinary  functions  were  not  legislative,  but  judicial;  and  it 
was  composed  of  judges  hereditary  under  certain  conditions. 
Nevertheless,  it  had  long  acted  as  a  check  on  the  royal 
power  through  its  right  of  registration.  No  royal  edict  had 
the  force  of  law  till  entered  upon  its  books,  and  this  custom 
had  so  deep  a  root  in  the  monarchical  constitution  of  France, 
that  even  Louis  XIV.,  in  the  flush  of  his  power,  did  not  at- 
tempt to  abolish  it.  He  did  better;  he  ordered  his  decrees 
to  be  registered,  and  the  humbled  parliament  submissively 
obeyed.  In  like  manner  all  edicts,  ordinances,  or  declara- 
tions relating  to  Canada  were  entered  on  the  registers  of  the 
superior  council  at  Quebec.  The  order  of  registration  was 
commonly  affixed  to  the  edict  or  other  mandate,  and  nobody 
dreamed  of  disobeying  it.^ 

The  council  or  court  had  its  attorney-general,  who  heard 
complaints  and  brought  them  liefore  the  tribunal  if  he 
thought  necessary ;  its  secretary,  who  kept  its  registers,  and 
its  huissicrs  or  attendant  officers.  It  sat  once  a  week ;  and, 
though  it  was  the  highest  court  of  appeal,  it  exercised  at  first 
original  jurisdiction  in  very  trivial  cases.  It  was  empowered 
to  establish  subordinate  courts  or  judges  throughout  the 
colony.  Besides  these  there  was  a  judge  appointed  by 
the  king  for  each  of  the  three  districts  into  which  Canada 
was  divided,  those  of  Quebec,  Three  Rivers,  and  Montreal. 
To  each  of  the  three  royal  judges  were  joined  a  clerk  and  an 

»  Many  general  edicts  relating  to  the  whole  kingdom  are  also  registered 
on  the  books  of  the  council,  hut  the  practice  in  this  respect  was  by  no  means 
uniform. 


i663-i7«3]       Canada  as  a  Royal  Province  1 73 

attorney-general  uuder  the  supervision  and  control  of  the 
attorney-general  ui  the  superi(jr  court,  to  which  tribunal 
appeal  lay  from  all  the  subordinate  jurisdictions.  The 
jurisdiction  of  the  seigniors  within  their  own  limits  has 
already  been  mentioned.  They  were  entitled  by  the  terms 
of  their  grants  to  the  exercihe  of  "  high,  middle,  and  low 
justice;"  but  most  of  them  were  practically  restricted  to 
the  last  of  the  three,  that  is,  to  petty  disputes  between  the 
habitants,  involving  not  more  than  sixty  sous,  or  offences 
for  which  the  fine  did  not  exceed  ten  sous.  Thus  limited, 
their  judgments  were  often  useful  in  saving  time,  trouble, 
and  money  to  the  disputants.  The  corpt)rate  seigniors  of 
Montreal  long  continued  to  hold  a  feudal  court  in  form, 
with  attorney -general,  clerk,  and  huisner;  but  very  few 
other  seigniors  were  in  a  condition  to  imitate  them.  Added 
to  all  these  tribunals  was  the  bishop's  court  at  Quebec  to 
try  causes  held  to  be  within  the  province  of  the  church. 


1/4  The  Struggle  lor  a  Continent     [1665-1673 


TALON'S  ADMINISTRATION » 


i 

-If 

If , ' 


r~^ 


Talon's  appearance  did  him  no  justice.'^    The  regular  con- 
tour of  his  oval  I'uce,  about  which  fell  to  his  shoulders  a 

cataract  of  curls,  natural  or 
supposititious;  the  smooth 
lines  of  his  well-formed  feat- 
ures, brows  delicately  arched, 
and  a  mouth  more  suggestive 
of  feminine  sensibility  than 
of  masculuie  force,  —  w  ould 
certainly  have  misled  the 
disciple  of  Lavater.  Yet 
there  was  no  want  of  man- 
hood in  him.  He  was  most 
happily  chosen  for  the  task 
placed  in  his  hands,  and  from 
first  to  last  approved  himself 
a  vigorous  executive  ofticer. 
He  was  a  true  disciple  of 
Colbert,  formed  in  his  school  and  animated  by  his  spirit. 

Being  on  the  spot,  he  was  better  able  than  his  master  to 
judge  the  working  of  the  new  order  of  things.     "With  regard 

»  The  Old  Rt'giine  in  Canada,  Cli.  XV. 

*  In  the  iiitendant  Talon,  the  Crown  had  a  lo3-al  servant,  and  the  colony 
an  able  and  incorrnjitible  ollioer.  He  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  figures 
in  the  annals  of  New  France,  whose  labors  though  lacking  in  picturesque 
glamour  were  still  invaluable  to  the  country  of  his  adoption.  His  portrait  is 
at  the  Hutel-Dieu  of  Quebec. —  Ki). 


Jean  Talon 


i6«5-««7a]  Talon's  Administration  175 

to  the  company,  he  writes  that  it  will  profit  by  impoverish- 
ing the  colony ;  tlial  its  monoiK>lies  tli.sheartcn  the  people 
and  paralyze  enterprise ;  that  it  in  thwarting  the  intentions 
of  the  king,  who  wishes  trade  to  be  encouraged;  and  that, 
if  its  exclusive  privileges  are  maintained,  Canada  in  ten 
years  will  I>o  less  populous  than  now.  But  Colbert  clung 
to  his  plan,  though  he  wrote  m  reply  that  to  satisfy  the 
colonists  he  had  persuaded  the  company  to  forego  the 
monopolies  for  a  year.  As  this  proved  insutticient,  the  com- 
pany was  at  length  forced  to  give  up  permanently  its  right 
of  exclusive  trade,  still  exacting  its  share  of  beaver  and 
moose  skins.  This  was  its  chief  source  of  profit;  it  be- 
grudged every  sou  deducted  from  it  for  charges  of  govern- 
ment, and  the  king  was  constantly  obliged  to  do  at  his  own 
cost  that  which  the  company  should  have  done.  In  one 
point  it  showed  a  ceaseless  activity ;  and  this  was  the  levy- 
ing of  duties,  in  which  it  was  never  known  to  faiL 

Trade,  even  after  its  exercise  was  permitted,  was  continu- 
ally vexed  by  the  hand  of  authority.  One  of  Tracy's  first 
measures  had  been  to  issue  a  decree  reducing  the  price  of 
wheat  one  half.  The  council  took  up  the  work  of  regulation, 
and  fixed  the  price  of  all  imported  goods  in  three  several 
tariffs,—  one  for  Quebec,  one  for  Three  Eivers,  and  one  for 
Montreal.  It  may  well  be  believed  that  there  was  in 
Canada  little  capital  and  little  enterprise.  Industrially  and 
commercially,  the  colony  was  almost  dead.  Talon  set  him- 
self to  galvanize  it ;  and,  if  one  man  could  have  supplied 
the  intelligence  and  energy  of  a  whole  community,  the 
results  would  have  been  triumphant. 

He  had  received  elaborate  instructions,  and  they  indicate 
an  ardent  wish  for  the  prosperity  of  Canada.  Colbert-  had 
written  to  him  that  the  true  means  to  strengthen  the  colony 


t 


lit 


176  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     IiM5-i»7« 

was  to  "  caiiHO  justice  to  rcigii,  establish  a  goinl  |H)lict',  pio- 
tect  the  iiihabitiints,  discipline  iheiii  aj^ainst  enemies,  and 
procure  fur  thein  jx'ace,  repose,  and  plenty."  "  Ami  as,"  the 
minister  further  says,  "  the  kinj^  roj^arda  his  Canatliaii  sub- 
jects, from  tlif  hi»,diest  to  the  hrtvest,  almost  as  his  own  chil- 
dren, and  wishes  them  to  enjoy  eijually  with  the  people  of 
France  the  mildness  and  happiness  of  liis  reij^n,  the  Sieur 
Talon  will  study  to  solace  them  in  all  thinj^s  and  encouraj;e 
then«  to  trade  and  industry.  And,  seeing  that  nt)thin<?  can 
Ijetter  j)romote  this  end  than  entering  into  the  details  "f 
their  househnlds  and  of  all  their  little  affairs,  il  will  1 
be  amiss  that  he  visit  all  their  settlements  one  after  the 
other  in  order  to  learn  their  true  condition,  provide  as  much 
as  possible  for  their  wants,  and,  jterforming  the  duty  of  a 
good  head  of  a  family,  put  them  in  the  way  of  making  some 
profit."  The  intendant  was  also  told  to  encourage  fathers  to 
inspire  their  children  with  i)iety,  together  witli  "  profound 
h>vc  and  respect  for  the  royal  persitn  of  his  Majesty." 

Talon  entered  on  his  work  with  admirable  zeal.  Some- 
times he  \>sed  authority,  sometimes  y)ersuasion,  sometimes 
l)romise3  of  reward.  Sometimes,  again,  he  tried  the  force 
of  examjtle.  Thus  he  built  a  ship  to  show  the  people  how 
to  do  it,  and  rouse  them  to  imitation.  Three  or  four  years 
later,  the  exjieriment  was  repeated.  This  time  it  was  at  the 
cost  of  the  king,  who  applied  the  sum  of  forty  thnusrind 
livres  to  the  double  purpose  of  promoting  the  art  of  shij)- 
building,  and  saving  the  colonists  from  vagrant  hubits  by 
giving  them  employment.  Talon  wrote  that  three  hundred 
and  fifty  men  had  been  supplied  that  summer  with  work  at 
the  charge  of  government. 

He  despatched  two  engineers  to  search  for  coal,  lead,  iron, 
copper,  and  other  minerals.     Important  discoveries  of  iron 


iMs-i67>] 


Talon's  Administration 


•77 


were  inaile ;  Iml  iliive  m-neratiuns  were  iK-ntiiu'tl  to  j»a.s.s 
before  the  mines  were  .HUceessfuUy  wi.iked.'  Tho  copiKjr 
of  Lake  Sui>oiior  nuMeil  tlio  iiitentlaiit's  hopes  for  a  time, 
Imt  he  was  soon  foreetl  to  the  conelu.si(»n  iliat  it  W's  t«»o 
remote  to  be  of  j.iaetical  vahie.  lie  lab.ied  vigorously  to 
(levehip  arts  an<l  manufactures;  made  a  barrel  of  tar,  and 
.sent  it  to  the  king  as  a  .specimen;  caused  some  of  the  c(do- 
ni.sts  to  make  cloth  of  the  wool  of  the  sheep  which  the  king 
had  sent  out;  eiUM.uraged  othei-s  to  establish  a  tanne«y,  and 
also  a  factory  of  hatd  and  of  shoes.  The  Sieur  FoUin  wa.s 
induced  by  the  grant  of  a  monojM,ly  to  begin  the  making 
of  soap  and  potash.  The  people  were  ordered  to  grow  hemp, 
and  urged  to  gather  the  nettles  of  the  cotmtry  as  material 
forconlage;  and  the  Ursulines  were  supplied  with  Hax  and 
wool,  in  order  that  they  might  teach  girls  to  weave  and 
spin. 

Talon  was  especially  anxious  to  establish  trade  between 
Canada  and  the  West  Indies;  and,  to  make  a  beginning,  he 
freighted  the  vessel  he  had  bidlt  with  salted  cod,  salmon, 
eels,  pease,  Hsh-oil,  staves,  and  planks,  and  sent  her  thither 
to  exchange  her  cargo  for  sugP; ,  which  she  was  in  turn  to 
exchange  in  France  for  goods  suited  for  the  Canadian  mar- 
ket. Another  favorite  object  with  him  was  the  fi.shery  of 
seals  and  white  porjioises  for  the  sake  of  their  oil ;  and  some 
of  the  chief  merchants  were  urged  to  undertake  it,  as  well 
as  the  establishment  of  stationary  co<l-tisheries  along  the 
Lower  St.  Lawrence.  But,  with  every  encouragement,  many 
years  passed  before  this  valuable  industry  was  jJaced  on  a 
firm  basis. 

1  Charlevoix  speaks  of  tlieso  mines  as  Laving  Wen  forgotten  for  seventy 
yenrs.  aiid  reiIiseovttt.i  in  iiis  tiiao.  Aft.r  passing  tiirough  various  hands, 
they  were  finally  wcrkea  on  the  kinjj'.s  accuuut. 

12 


41 


Hi 


178  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1665  1672 

Talon  saw  with  conci'in  the  huge  riinsuniption  (if  wine 
and  brandy  among  the  settleis,  costing  them,  as  he  wrote 
to  Colbert,  a  luindred  tliousand  livres  a  year ;  and,  to  keep 
this  money  in  thc^  cnldny,  he  declared  his  intention  of  build- 
ing a  brewery.  1'Iie  minister  approved  tiie  ])lan,  not  only  on 
economic  grounds,  but  because  "  the  vice  of  drunkenness 
would  thereafter  cause  no  more  scandal  by  reason  of  the 
cold  nature  of  beer,  the  vapors  whereof  rarely  deprive  men 
of  tiie  use  of  judgment."  Tiie  l»rewery  was  accordingly  built, 
to  the  gioat  satisfaction  of  the  poorer  colonists. 

Nor  did  the  active  intendant  fail  to  aciiuit  himself  of  the 
duty  of  domiciliary  visits,  enjoined  upon  liim  by  the  royal 
instructions;  a  point  ou  which  he  was  (jf  one  mind  with  his 
superiors,  for  he  writes  that  "those  cliarged  in  this  country 
with  his  Majesty's  affairs  are  under  a  strict  obligation  to 
enter  into  the  detail  of  families."     Accordingly  we  learn 
from  M')ther  Juchereuu,  that  "he  studied  with  the  afTection 
of  a  father  how  to  succor  the  ]X)or  and  cau>e  the  colony  to 
grow;    entered   into   the   minutest  particulars;  visited  the 
houses  of  the  inhabitants,  and  caused  them  to  visit  him; 
learned  what  crops  each  one  was  raising ;  taught  those  who 
had  wheat  to  sell  it  at  a  profit,  helped  those  who  had  none, 
and  encouraged  everybody."     And  Dollier  de  Cassou  repre- 
sents him  as  visiting  in  turn  every  house  at  M(mtreal,  and 
giving  aid  from  the  king  to  such   as  needed  it.     Horses, 
cattle,  sheep,  and  other  domestic  animals,  were  sent  out  at 
the  royal  charge  in  consideral)le  numbers,  and  distributed 
gratuitously,  with  an  order  that  none  of  the  young  should 
be  killed  till  the  countrj-  was  sufficiently  stocked.     Large 
quantities  of  goods  were  also  sent  from  the  same  high  quar- 
ter.    Some  of  these  were  distributed  as  gifts,  and  the  rest 
bartered  for  corn  to  supjdy  the  troops.     As  the  intendant 


1665-1672] 


Talon's  Administration 


179 


lierceived  that  the  farmers  lust  much  time  in  coming  from 
their  distant  clearings  to  buy  necessaries  at  Quebec,  lie 
caused  his  agents  to  furnish  them  with  the  king's  goods 
at  their  own  houses,  to  the  great  anno}ance  of  the  mer- 
chants of  Quebec,  who  complained  that  their  accustomed 
trade  was  thus  forestalled. 

These  were  not  the  only  cares  which  occupied  the  mind 
of  Talon.  He  tried  to  open  a  road  across  the  country  to 
Acadia,  an  almost  impossilde  task,  in  which  he  and  his  suc- 
cessors completely  failed.  Under  his  auspices,  Albanel  pene- 
trated to  Hudson's  l>ay,  and  Saint  Lussou  took  possession  in 
the  king's  name  of  the  country  of  the  Upper  Lakes.  It  was 
Talon,  in  short,  who  prepared  tlie  way  for  the  remarkable 
series  of  explorations  described  in  another  work.^  Again  and 
again  he  urged  iqwu  Colbert  and  the  king  a  measure  from 
which,  had  it  taken  eflect,  momentous  consequences  must 
have  sprung.  This  was  the  purchase  or  seizure  of  New  York, 
involving  the  isolation  of  New  England,  the  subjection  of 
the  Iroquois,  and  the  undisputed  control  of  half  the  con- 
tinent. 

Great  as  were  his  opportunities  of  abusing  his  trust,  it 
does  not  appear  that  he  took  advantage  of  them.  He  held 
lands  and  houses  in  Canada,  owned  the  brewery  which  he 
had  established,  and  embarked  in  various  enterprises  of  pro- 
ductive industry ;  but,  so  far  as  I  can  discover,  he  is  nowhere 
accused  of  making  illicit  gains,  and  there  is  reason  to  believe 
that  he  acquitted  himself  of  his  charge  with  entire  fidelity. 
His  health  failed  in  1668,  and  for  this  and  other  causes  he 
asked  for  his  recall.  Colbert  granted  it  with  strong  expres- 
sions of  regret ;  and  when,  two  years  later,  he  resumed  the 
intendancy,  the  colony  seems  to  have  welcomed  his  return. 

1  La  Salle  and  the  Discovery  of  the  Great  West. 


i8o  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1663-1763 


fi 


!!  I 


!      ' 


'II 

hi    ^ 

r  \ 


■  t 


THE   COUUEURS   DE   BOIS' 

Out  of  the  bouvor  trade  lose  a  huge  evil,  baneful  to  the 
growth  and  the  morals  of  Canada.    All  that  was  most  active 
and  vigorous  in  the  colony  took  to  the  woods,  and  escaped 
from  the  control  of  intendants,  council?,  and  priests,  to  the 
savage  freedoi.i  of  the  wilderness.     Xot  only  were  the  i»os- 
sible  profits  great;  but,  in  the  pursuit  of  them,  there  was  a 
fascinating  element  of  adventure  and  danger.     Tlie  bush- 
rangers or  roiirnirs  de  hois  were   to  the  king  an  object  of 
horror,2    They  defeated  his  plans  for  the  increase  of  the 
population,  and  shocked  his  native  instinct  of  discipline  and 
order.     Edict  after  edict  was  directed   against  them;  and 
more  than  once  tlie  colony  presented  the  extraordinaiy  spec- 
tacle of  the  greater  part  of  its  young  men  turned  into  forest 
outlaws.     IJut  severity  was  dangerous.     The  offenders  might 
be  driven  over  to  the  English,  or  converted  into  a  lawless 
banditti,  renegades  of  civilization  and  the  faith.     Therefore, 
clemency  alternated  with  rigor,  and  declarations  of  amnesty 
with  edicts  of  ])roscription.     Neither  threats  nor  blandish- 
ments were  of  nmch  avail.     We  hear  of  seigniories  aban- 
doned ;  farms  turning  again  into  f(jrests;  wives  and  children 
left  in  destitution.    The  exodus  of  the  conrcurs  dc  hois  would 
take,  at  times,  the  character  of  an  organized  movement.    The 

»  The  01(1  Rec^inio  in  Canada,  Ch.  XX. 

*  The  most  (laii<,'(ioiis  ilitncnt  in  the  population,  and  withal  the  most 
picturesque,  with  whom  successive  intendants  and  governors  had  to  deal, 
were  the  roving  and  lawkss  coureurs  dc  bois  (roaiuers  of  the  woods,  forest- 
raiigii=).    -  Ki). 


I 663-1 763] 


The  Coureurs  de  Bois 


181 


famous  Du  Lhut  is  said  to  have  made  a  general  combination 
of  the  young  men  of  Canada  to  follow  him  into  the  woods. 
Their  plan  was  to  be  absent  four  years,  in  order  that  the 
edicts  against  them  might  have  time  to  relent.     The  inten- 
dant  Duchesneau  reported  that  eight  hundred  men  out  of  a 
population  of  less   than  ten  thousand  souls  had  vanished 
from   sight   in  the   immensity  of  a   boundless  wilderness. 
Whereupon  the  king  ordered  that  any  person  going  into  the 
woods  without  a  license  should  be  whipped  and  branded  for 
the  first  offence,  and  sent  for  life  to  the  galleys  for  the  sec- 
ond.^    The  order  was  more  easily  given  than  enforced.     "  I 
must  not  conceal  from  you,  monseigneur,"  again  writes  the 
intendant  Duchesneau, "  that  the  disobedience  of  the  cou- 
reurs de  hois  has  reached  such  a  point  that  everj-body  boldly 
contravenes  the  king's  interdictions  ;  that  there  is  no  longer 
any  concealment ;    and  that  parties  are  collected  with  as- 
tonishing insolence  to  go  and  trade  in  the  Indian  country.    I 
have  done  all  in  my  power  to  prevent  this  evil,  which  may 
cause  the  ruin  of  the  colony.     I  have  enacted  ordinances 
against  the  cott,reurs  de  hois;   against  the  merchants  who 
furnish  them  with  goods;  against  ;.ie  gentlemen  and  others 
who  harbor  them,  and  even  against  those  who  have  any 
knowledge  of  them,  and  will  not  inform  the  local  judges. 
All  has  been  in  vain  ;  inasmuch  as  some  '^f  the  most  con- 
siderable families  are  interested  with  them,  and  the  governor 
lets  them  go  on  and  even  shares  their  profits,"    "  You  are 
aware,  monseigneur,"  writes  Denonville,^  some  years  later, 

>  Lc  Roi  li  Frontenac,  30  Avril,  1681.  On  another  occasion,  it  was  ordered 
that  any  person  thus  offending  should  suffer  death. 

*  Between  the  close  of  Frontenac's  first  tenure  of  office  in  1682,  and  his  re- 
turn to  Canada  in  1689,  there  were  two  governors,  namely,  —  Sieur  de  la 
Rarre,  1682-1685,  and  Marquis  de  Deiionville,  1685-1689.  I^  Barre's  admin- 
istration was  corrupt  and  inetfective,  Denonville's  merely  ineffectiye.  —  Ed. 


. 


iS2  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent      [16O3-1763 

"that  the  amriiirs  il,  hoin  aic  ii  jfivat  evil,  hut  you  are  nut 
aware  hdw  great  this  mil  is.  It  (k'])riveH  the  coiin'try  of  its 
eflective  men;  makes  tlu-rii  itidocile,  debauched,  and  iii(!a[)ahle 
of  disciplim.,  uiid  tin  us  tiieiii  into  luetended  nohles,  \vearin<' 
the  swoul  and  ilcckcd  out  with  lace,  both  they  and  their  rela- 
tions, who  all  aflect  to  he  jreuilemen  and  ladies.  As  for  cul- 
tivating the  .soil,  they  will  nut  hear  of  it.     This,  along  wUh 

the  scattered  condition  of  the 
settlements,  cau.ses  their  chil- 
dren to  be  as  ujuuly  as  In- 
dians, being  brought  up  in 
the  sanu'  maimer.     Not  that 
there  are  not  some  a  eiy  good 
people  liere,  but  tluy  are  in 
a  mincjrity."    In  another  de- 
spatch he  enlarges  on  their 
vagabond  and  lawless  ways, 
their    indifTeren(!e    to    mar- 
riage, and  the  mischief  caused 
by  their  example ;  describes 
how,  on  their   return    from 
the  woods,  they  swagger  like 
lords,  si)end  all  their  gains 
in  dress  and  drunken  revelry,  and  despise  the  peasants,  whose 
daughters  tliey  will  not  deign  to  marry,  though  they  are 
peasants  themselves. 

It  was  a  curious  scene  when  a  party  of  coureurs  de  hois 
returned  from  their  rovings.  Montreal  was  their  harboring 
place,  and  they  conducted  themselves  nnich  like  the  crew  of 
a  man-of-war  paid  off  after  a  long  voyage.  As  long  as  their 
beaver-skins  lasted,  they  set  no  bounds  to  their  riot.  Every 
house  in  the  place,  we  are  told,  was  turned  into  a  drinking 


Marquis  dc  JJenonville 


"1 


1663-1763I  The  Coureurs  de  Bois  183 

shop.  Tlie  new-comers  were  Isedizeiied  with  a  strange  mix- 
ture of  Frencli  and  Indian  finery;  while  some  of  them,  with 
instincts  more  thoroughly  savage,  stalked  about  the  streets 
as  naked  as  a  Tottawattamie  or  a  Sioux.  The  clamor  of 
tongues  was  prodigious,  and  gambling  and  drinking  tilled  the 
day  and  night.  When  at  last  they  were  sober  again,  they 
sought  absolution  for  their  sins ;  nor  could  the  priests  ven- 
ture to  bear  too  hard  on  their  unruly  ])enitents,  lest  they 
shouhl  break  wholly  with  tlie  ("lunch  and  dispense  thence- 
forth with  her  sacraments. 

Under  such  leaders  as  T)u  Lhut,  the  roiornrs  de  hois  built 
forts  of  palisades  at  various  points  througliout  the  West  and 
Northwest.  They  had  a  post  of  this  sort  at  Detroit  some 
time  before  its  permanent  settlement,  as  well  as  others  on 
Lake  Superior  and  in  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi.  They 
occupied  them  as  long  as  it  s\iited  their  purposes,  and  then 
abandoned  them  to  the  next  comer.  Michillimackinac  was, 
however,  their  chief  resort ;  and  thence  they  would  set  out, 
two  or  three  together,  to  roam  for  hundreds  of  miles  through 
the  endless  mesh  work  of  interlocking  lakes  and  rivers  which 
seams  the  northern  wilderness. 

No  wonder  that  a  year  or  two  of  bush-ranging  spoiled  them 
for  civilization.  Though  not  a  very  valuable  member  of 
society,  and  though  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  princes  and  rulers, 
the  coureur  de  hois  had  his  uses,  at  least  from  an  artistic 
point  of  view;  and  his  strange  figure,  sometimes  brutally 
savage,  but  oftener  marked  with  the  lines  of  a  dare-devil 
courage,  and  a  reckless,  thoughtless  gayety,  will  always  be 
joined  to  the  memories  of  that  grnnd  world  of  woods  which 
the  nineteenth  century  is  fast  civilizing  out  of  existence. 
At  least,  he  is  picturesque,  and  with  his  red-skin  companion 
serves  to  animate  forest  scenery.     Perhaps  he  could  some- 


IS 

m 


iil 


n 


i 


.. 


h    ! 


11 


184  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1663-1763 

times  feel,  without  knowing  that  lie  fi'lt  them,  the  t-harms  of 
the  savap'   nature  that  had  aihtpted  hini.^     liude  as  he  was, 
her  voice  may  not  always  liavebeen  meaningless  for  one  who 
knew  her  haunts  so  well;  deep  recesses  where,  veiled  in 
foliage,   some  wild   shy   rivulet    steals   with   timid    music 
through  breathless  caves  of  verdiue ;  gulfs  where  feathered 
crags  rise  like  castle  walls,  where  the  noonday  sun  pierces 
with  keen  rays  athwart  the  torrent,  and  the  mossed  arms  of 
fallen  pines  cast  wavering  shadows  on  tlie  illumined  foam ; 
pools  of  liquid  crystal  turned  emerald  in  the  reflected  green 
of  impending  woods ;  rocks  on  whose  rugged  front  the  gleam 
of  sunlit  waters  dances  in   quivering  light;   ancient   trees 
hurled  headlong  by  the  storm  to  dam  the  raging  stream  with 
their  forlorn  and  savage  ruin;  or  the  stern  depths  of  im- 
memorial forests,  dim  and  silent  as  a  cavern,  columned  with 
innumerable  trunks,  each  like  an  Atlas  upholding  its  world 
of  leaves,  and  sweating  perpetual  moisture  down  its  dark 
and  channelled  rind ;    some   strong  in  youth,  some  grisly 
with  decrepit  age,  nightmares  of  strange  distortion,  gnarled 
and  knotted  with  wens  and  goitres ;  roots  intertwined  be- 
neath like  serpents  petrified  in  an  agony  of  contorted  strife ; 
green  and  glistening  mosses  carpeting  the   rough  ground, 
mantling  the  rocks,  turning  pulpy  stumps   to   mounds   of 
verdure,  and  swathing  fallen  trunks  as,  bent  in  the  impotence 
of  rottenness,  they  lie  outstretched  over  knoll  and  hollow, 
like  mouldering  reptiles  of  the  primeval  world,  while  around, 
and  on,  and  through  them,  springs  the  young  growth  that 
battens  on  their  decay,  —  the  forest  devouring  its  own  dead. 


»  "It  would  be  false  coloring,"  says  Parkman,  "  to  paint  the  half-savage 
courcur  dc  buis  as  a  romantic  lover  of  nature."  lie  loved  rather  the  lust  of 
freedom,  and  the  spirit  of  lawless  adventure  whieh  he  could  indulge  in  the 
secret  recesses  of  the  nurthcm  forest.  —  Ed. 


1663-1763]  The  Coureurs  de  Bois  185 

Or,  to  turn  from  its  funereal  shade  to  the  light  and  life  of 
the  oi)en  woodland,  the  sheen  of  sparkling  lakes,  and  moun- 
tains basking  in  the  glory  of  the  summer  noon,  flecked  by 
the  shadows  of  passing  clouds  that  sail  on  snowy  wings 
across  the  transparent  azure. 


[With  this  roaming  element  in  the  population  it  was  inevi- 
table that  exploration  should  make  rapid  strides.  Yet 
hitherto  no  systematic  effort  towards  the  discovery  of  new 
territory  had  been  made.  The  missionary  thought  only  of 
the  commerce  of  souls,  and  the  courenr  de  hois  only  of  the 
traflic  in  brandy  and  furs.  The  results  had,  therefore,  been 
desultorj'  and  evanescent.  Under  the  energetic  administra- 
tions of  Tracy,  Courcelle,  and  Frontenac,  and  fostered  by  the 
commercial  sagacity  and  zeal  of  Talon,  a  definite  purpose 
was  substituted  for  the  fitful  energy  that  had  formerly  pre- 
vailed. To  Talon  indeed  we  indirectly  owe  the  discovery  of 
the  Mississippi,  for  on  his  initiative  Joliet  and  Marquette 
were,  in  1673,  sent  in  search  of  that  rumored  river.  They 
were  successful  in  their  quest,  but  it  remained  for  La  Salle 
to  pursue  its  course  to  tlie  sea,  and  to  lay  the  foundations  of 
a  New  France  in  the  South.  —  Ed.] 


|j    n  i 


1 86  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


[167a 


DISCOVERY   OF  THE   MISSISSIPPI 

[A  CHEAT  pniject,  and  fraught  witli  results  of  the  highest 
unportance,  occupieil  the  mind  of  the  lutendant  Talon  in 
the  closing  days  of  liis  administration.  Curious  reports  had 
reached  him  from  the  Indians  of  the  existence  of  a  mighty 
waterway  in  the  far  western  interior.  La  SaUe  liad  already 
explored  two  of  the  avenues  by  which  it  might  be  approached, 
and  now  to  push  the  quest  to  a  successful  conclusion  Talon 
m  1672  made  choice  of  Louis  Joliet,  then  recently  returned 
from  Lake  Superior. 

"Joliet,"  says  Parkman,«was  the  son  of  a  wagon-maker  in 
tlie  service  of  the  Company  of  the  Hundred  Associates.  He 
was  born  at  Quebec  in  1645,  and  was  educated  by  the 
Jesuits.  When  still  very  yomig,  he  resolved  to  be  a  priest. 
He  received  the  tonsure  and  tlie  minor  orders  at  the  age  of 
seventeen.  Not  long  after,  however,  he  renounced  his  cleri- 
cal vocation,  and  turned  fur-trader. 

"  In  fthat  we  know  of  Joliet  there  is  nothing  that  reveals 
any  salient  or  distinctive  trait  of  character,  any  especial 
breadth  of  view  or  boldness  of  design.  He  appears  to  have 
been  simply  a  merchant,  well-educated,  courageous,  hardy, 
and  enterprising."  ^ 

Of  a  very  different  stamp  was  the  Jesuit,  Jacques  Mar- 
quette,  who  was  chosen  to  accompany  him.  He  was  born  in 
1C37,  of  an  old  and  honorable  family,  at  Laon,  in  the  North 

>  La  Salle  and  the  DiscoTery  vi  the  Great  West,  Ch.  V. 


,!*. 


««73]  Discovery  of  the  Mississippi  187 

of  France,  and  was  now  about,  thirty-five  years  of  ajje.  Since 
166H  lie  liad  been  a  Jesuit  missionary  in  Canada,  and  for 
some  years  past  had  occupied  the  distant  fiehl  of  Michil- 
limackinac.  Ardent,  mystical,  and  self-sacrificing,  there  was 
in  him  the  temper  of  tlie  early  martyrs,  the  unquestion- 
ing devotion  which  sustained  ( Jarnier  and  Jogues  in  dangers 
before  which  even  the  bravest  might  well  (juail.  —  Kd.] 

Marquette  begins  the  journal  of  liia  voyage  thus  : '  "  The  day 
of  the  Immaculate  Conception  of  the  Holy  Virgin  ;  whom  I 
had  continually  invoked,  since  I  came  to  this  country  of 
the  Ottawas,  to  obtain  from  (Jod  the  favor  of  being  enabled 
to  visit  the  nations  on  the  river  Mississippi,—  this  very  day 
was  precisely  that  on  which  M.  Joliet  ariived  with  orders 
from  Count  Frontenac,  our  governor,  and  from  :\r.  Talon,  our 
intendant,  to  go  with  me  on  this  discovery.  1  was  all  the 
more  delighted  at  this  good  news,  because  I  saw  my  plans 
about  to  be  accomplished,  and  found  myself  in  the  happy 
necessity  of  exposing  my  life  for  the  salvation  of  all  these 
tribes;  and  esj>ecially  of  the  Illinois,  who,  when  I  was  at 
Point  St.  Esprit,  had  begged  me  very  earnestly  to  bring  the 
word  of  God  among  them." 

The  outfit  of  the  travellers  was  very  simple.  They  pro- 
vided themselves  with  two  birch  canoes,  and  a  supply  of 
smoked  meat  and  Indian  corn;  embarked  with  five  men; 
and  began  their  voyage  on  the  seventeenth  of  IVfay.  They 
had  obtained  all  possible  information  from  the  Indians,  and 
had  made,  by  means  of  it,  a  species  of  map  of  their  intended 
route.  "  Above  all,"  writes  JIar(|uette,  «  I  placed  our  vojage 
under  the  protection  of  the  Holy  Virgin  Immacidate,  prom- 
ising that,  if  she  granted  us  the  favor  of  discovering  the 

»  La  Salle  and  the  Discovery  of  the  Great    ''est,  Ch.  V. 


i88  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1673 


i 


ti? 


i673l  Discovery  of  the  Mississippi  1S9 

fMt'ut  river,  I  would  give  it  tlie  name  of  tlie  Conception," 
^  .ic'ir  course  was  »ve.stwanl ;  anil,  plyinj.'  their  paddles,  they 
jiassed  the  straits  of  Micliilliniackiiiuc,  and  ousted  the 
nortliern  shores  of  I^ike  Michigan ;  laiuUng  at  evening  to 
build  tlieir  camp-tire  at  the  edge  of  tlii;  forest,  and  draw  up 
their  canoes  on  the  strand.  They  soon  reached  the  river 
Menomoine,  and  ascended  it  to  the  village  of  the  Menomo- 
nies,  or  Wild-rice  Indians.  Wljeu  they  told  them  the  object 
of  their  voyage,  tlu-y  were  filled  with  astonislmient,  and  used 
their  best  ingenuity  to  dissuade  them.  The  banks  of  the 
Mississippi,  they  said,  were  inhabited  by  ferocious  tribes, 
who  put  every  .stranger  to  death,  tomahawking  all  new- 
comers without  cause  or  provocation.  They  added  that  there 
was  a  demon  in  a  certain  i)art  of  the  river,  whose  n^ar  could 
be  heard  at  a  great  distance,  and  who  would  engulf  them  in 
the  abyss  wliere  he  dwelt ;  that  its  wateifi  were  full  of  fright- 
ful monstt"--  who  would  devour  them  and  their  canoe;  and, 
finally,  that  the  heat  was  so  great  that  they  would  perish  in- 
evitably. Marquette  set  their  ciniusel  at  naught,  gave  them 
a  few  words  of  instruction  in  the  mysteries  of  the  Faith, 
taught  them  a  prayer,  and  bade  them  farewell. 

The  travellers  next  reached  the  mi.ssion  at  the  head  of 
r.rcen  Bay;  entered  Fox  IJiver;  with  difficulty  and  labor 
dragged  their  canoes  up  the  long  and  tunmltuous  rapids , 
crossed  Lake  Winnebagti;  and  followed  the  quiet  windings 
of  the  river  beyond,  where  they  glided  through  an  endless 
growth  of  wild  1  ice,  and  scared  the  innumerable  birds  that 
fed  upon  it.  On  either  hand  rolled  the  jirairie,  dotted  with 
groves  and  trees,  browsing  elk  and  deer.  On  the  seventh 
of  June,  they  reached  the  Mascoutius  and  Mianiis,  who, 
since  the  visit  of  Dablon  and  Allouez,  had  been  joined  by 
the  Kickapoos,     Marquette,  wiio  had  au   e}e  for   natural 


1 


!:  j 


190  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1673 

Waiity,  was  deliffhti-tl  wiih  the  situation  of  the  town,  which 
he  (le.s('iil)t'.s  as  standinj,'  on  the  crown  of  a  hill;  while,  all 
arouiul,  the  juaiiie  stretched  beyond  tlie  sight,  intersj^-rsed 
with  groves  aiul  belts  of  tall  forest.  iJut  he  was  still  more 
delighted  when  he  saw  a  cross  planted  in  the  midst  of  the 
Jilace.  The  Indians  had  decorated  it  with  a  number  of 
dressed  deer-skins,  red  girdles,  and  bows  and  arrows,  wiiich 
they  had  liung  upon  it  as  an  ollering  to  the  (Jreat  Manitou 
of  the  French;  a  sight  by  which  Maniuette  says  he  was 
"extremely  consoled." 

The  travellers  had  no  sooner  reached  the  town  than  they 
called  the  chiefs  and  eldei-s  to  a  council.  .I(diet  told  them 
that  the  governor  of  Canada  had  sent  him  to  discover  new 
countries,  and  that  CJod  had  sent  his  companion  to  teach 
the  true  faith  to  the  inhabitants ;  and  he  prayed  for  guides 
to  show  them  the  way  to  the  waters  of  the  Wisconsin.  The 
council  readily  consented;  and  on  the  tenth  of  June  the 
Frenchmen  end.arked  again,  with  two  Indians  to  conduct  them. 
All  the  town  came  down  to  the  shore  to  see  tlie'r  dei)arture. 
Here  were  tlie  Mianns,  witli  long  l„cks  of  hair  dangling  over 
each  ear,  after  a  fashion  which  Manpiette  tliought  very  be- 
connng;  and  here,  to..,  the  Mascoutins  and  tiie  Kickapoos, 
whom  he  describes  as  mere  b<iors  in  comparison  with  their 
Miami  townsmen.  All  stared  alike  at  the  seven  adventurers, 
marvelling  that  men  could  be  found  to  risk  an  enterprise  so' 
hazardous. 

T)'e  river  twisted  among  lakes  and  marshes  choked  with 
wild  rice;  and,  but  for  their  guides,  they  could  scarcely  have 
followed  the  i-erplexcl  an.l  narrow  cjiannel.  It  brought 
them  at  last  to  the  .-'"tage,  whereafter  carrying  their  cauoes 
a  mile  and  a  half  over  the  prairie  and  through  the  marsh, 
they  launched  then,  on  the  AViscnnsin,  bade  fareweU  to  the' 


i»73]  Discovery  of  the  Mississippi  191 

waters   tlmt  flowinl  to   the   St.    Uwience,  and   committed 
tlieniselvi's  10  the  curn-nt  that  was  to  U-ur  tlu-m  they  knew 
not  whilher.  — iK'tliaps  to  the  (lulf  of  Alexin.,  iK-'ihaps  to 
the   South   Sea,  or   tlie   (iulf    of   California.     They   jrlided 
cahnly  down  the  tranquil  stream,  by  islands  choked  with 
trees,  and  matted  with  entangling  grape-vines;  by  forests, 
groves,  and  prairies,  the   iwirks  and  pleasure-grounds   of  a 
pr.Hligal  nature ;   by  thickets  and  marslios  and  broad  bare 
sand-bars;  uiuler  the  shadowing  trees,  between  whose  tops 
l.M.ked  down  from  afar  the  b<dd  brow  of  some  wocnly  bluff. 
At  night,  the  bivouac,  —  the  canoes  inverted  on  the  bank, 
the  dickering  fire,  the  meal  of  bison-tlesh  or  venison,  theeven- 
ing  pipes,  and  slumber  beneath  tlie  stars;  and  when  in  tlie 
morning  they  embarked  again,  the  mist  hung  un  the  river  like 
a  bridal  veil ;  then  melted  before  the  sun.  till  the  glassy  water 
and  the  languid  woods  basked  breathless  in  the  sultry  glare. 
On  the  seventeenth  of  June,  they  saw  on  their  right  the 
broad  meadows,  bounded  in  the  distance   bv  rugged   hills, 
where  now  -tand  the  town  and  fort   of  Prairie  du  Chien! 
liefore  then,  a  wide  and  rapid  current  coursed  athwart  their 
way.  by  the  foot  of  lofty  heights  wrapped  thick  in  forests. 
They  had  found  what  they  sought,  and  «  witli  a  joy,"  writes 
Afarquette,  "which    I   cannot    express."  thev  steered  forth 
their  canoes  on  the  eddies  of  the  Mississippi. 

They  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Illinois,  and  glided  beneath 
that  hne  of  rocks  on  the  eastern  side,  cut  into  fantastic 
forms  by  the  elements, and  marked  as  "The  Huine<i  Castles" 
on  some  of  the  early  French  maps.  Tliev  were  suddeidv 
aroused  by  a  real  danger.  A  torrent  of  vellow  mu.l  ruslied 
furiously  athwart  the  calm  blue  current  of  the  Mississippi- 
boiling  and  .surging,  and  swHcpin^r  in  it.c,.,!r.e  logs,  bran,  bcs 
and  uprooted  trees.      They  had  reached  the  mouth  of  the 


1  ■ 

ill 


■  *  1 

■;  1. 


Il-'t 


192  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1673 

Missouri,  whore  that  savage  rivei-,  descending  from  its  mad 
career  through  a  vast  unknown  of  barbarism,  poured  its  turbid 
floods  into  the  bosom  of  its  gentler  sister.  Their  light 
canoes  whirled  on  the  miry  vortex  like  dry  leaves  on  an 
angry  brook.  "I  never,"  writes  Maniuette,  "  saw  any  thing 
more  terrific ; "  but  they  escaped  with  their  friglit,  and  held 
tlieir  way  down  the  turbulent  and  swollen  current  of  the 
now  united  rivers.  Tliey  passed  the  lonely  forest  that  cov- 
ered tlie  site  of  the  destined  city  of  St.  Louis,  and,  a  few 
(la\s  later,  saw  on  their  left  the  mouth  of  the  stream  to 
which  the  Irtxpiois  had  given  the  well-merited  name  of 
Ohio,  or  the  Beautiful  Kiver.  Soon  tliey  began  to  see  the 
marshy  shores  buried  in  a  dense  growlli  of  the  cane,  with 
its  tall  straiglit  stems  and  feathery  light-green  foliage.  Tlie 
sun  glowed  through  the  hazy  air  with  a  languid  stilling 
heal,  and  hy  day  and  night  mos([uitoes  in  myriads  left  them 
no  peace.  They  floated  slowly  down  the  current,  crouched 
in  the  shade  of  the  sails  wliich  they  had  .^-lircad  as  awnings, 
when  suddenly  they  saw  Indians  on  the  east  bank.  The 
surprise  was  nuUuul,  and  each  party  was  as  much  frightened 
as  the  other.  Marquette  hastened  to  disjilay  the  calumet 
which  the  Illinois  had  given  him  byway  of  passport;  and 
the  Indians,  recognizing  the  pacific  symbol,  rejdied  with  an 
invitation  to  land.  Evidently,  they  were  in  communication 
with  Europeans,  for  they  were  armed  with  guns,  knives,  and 
hatchets,  wore  garments  of  cloth,  and  carrieil  their  gunpow- 
der in  small  bottles  of  thick  glass.  They  feasted  the  French- 
men with  buffalo-meat, bear's  oil, and  white  plums;  and  gave 
them  a  variety  of  doubtful  information,  including  the  agree- 
able but  delusive  assurance  that  they  would  reach  the  mouth 
of  the  river  in  ten  days.  It  was,  in  fact,  more  than  a 
thousand  miles  distant. 


it 


«673]  Discovery  of  the  Mississippi  193 

[Tliiee  luuidml  mik's  oi  nionotDnoiis  jiiuKlliiirr  hn.iigliL 
thcnito  the  nioiiili  of  the  Arkansas,  and  liere  tlu-ir  jmiriiey 
seent.  .  .'ostiiii'd  to  end.  An  Indian  villajfe  lay  upon  the 
w>;-i  !i;inl<  <<i  ii.i  liver,  and  as  they  approaehed,  several 
h-j;i-  eanoi's  iil'l^d  with  yelling  warriors  jnit  out  fmm  shore 
to  •H'- -i.-fM  tl'.eni.  'I'lu'se  unfriendly  demonstrations  soon 
subsided,  however,  and  the  most  serious  ilelay  to  which  the 
travellers  were  sulijected  was  occasioned  by  the  merciless 
h')spitali(y  of  their  sa\age  hosts. —  E]>.] 

The  travellers  now  held  counsel  as  to  what  course  they 
should  take.  They  had  gone  far  enough,  as  they  thought,  to 
establish  one  important  {(oint :  that  the  ]Mississi]ipidiseiiarged 
its  waters,  not  into  the  Atlantic  or  sea  of  Virginia,  nor  into 
the  (}ulf  of  California  or  Vermilion  Sea,  but  into  the  CJulf  of 
Mexico,  They  thought  themselves  nearer  to  its  mouth  than 
they  actually  were,  the  distance  being  still  about  seven  hun- 
dred miles ;  and  they  feared  that,  if  they  went  farther,  they 
might  be  killed  by  Indians  or  captured  by  Spaniards,  whereby 
the  results  of  their  discovery  would  be  lost.  Therefore  they 
resolved  to  return  to  Canada,  and  report  what  they  had 
seen. 

They  left  the  Arkansas  village,  and  began  their  homeward 
voyage  on  the  seventeenth  of  July.  It  was  no  easy  task  to 
urge  their  way  upward,  in  the  heat  of  midsummer,  against  the 
current  of  the  dark  and  gloomy  stream,  toiling  all  day  under 
the  parching  sun,  and  sleeping  at  night  in  the  exhalations 
of  the  unwholesome  shore,  or  in  Jie  narrow  confines  of  their 
birchen  vessels,  anchored  on  the  river.  Marquette  was  at- 
tacked with  dysentery.  Languid  and  well-nigh  spent,  he 
invoked  his  celestial  mistress,  as  day  after  day,  and  week 
after  week,  they  won  their  slow  way  northward.     At  length, 

13 


,-j  ..  . 


194  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1673 

they  n-a.-hod  the  Illinois,  and,  entering  its  mouth,  followed 
its  course,  ehanned,  as  lliey  went,  witli  its  j.lacid  waters,  its 
sliady  forests,  and  its  rieh  j.lains,  grazed  by  the  bison  and 
the  deer.  They  stoj.ped  at  a  spot  soon  to  be  made  ainous 
in  the  annals  of  western  discovery.  This  was  a  village  of 
the  Illinois,  then  called  Kaskaskia  ;  a  name  afterwards  trans- 
ferred to  another  locality.  A  chief,  with  a  band  of  young 
waniors,  olVcred  to  gui.le  them  to  the  Lake  of  the  Illinois ; 
that  is  to  say.  Lake  Michigan.  Thither  they  repaired;  and, 
coasting  its  shores,  reached  (Jreen  15ay  at  the  end  of  Septem- 
ber, after  an  absence  of  alxjut  four  months,  during  which 
they  liad  paddled  llieir  canoes  somewhat  more  than  two 
thousand  five  liundred  miles.' 

1  La  Salle  and  tho  Discovery  of  the  Great  West,  Ch.  V. 


1678] 


La  Salle 


195 


LA   SALLE » 


Conspicuous  in  the  annals  of  Canada  stands  the  memor- 
able name  of  Koliert  Cavelier  de  La  Salle,  the  man  who, 
beyond  all  his  compeers,  contributed  to  ex[)and  the  boundary 
of  French  empire  in  the  west.  La  Salle  commanded  at  Fort 
Frontenac,  erected  near  the  outlet  of  I^ke  Ontario,  on  its 
northern  shore,  and  then  forming  the  most  advanced  military 
outpost  of  the  colony.  Here  he  dwelt  among  Indians,  and 
half-breeds,  traders,  voi/agcurs,  bush-rangers,  and  Franciscan 
monks,  ruling  his  little  empire  with  absolute  sway,  enforcing 
respect  by  his  energy,  but  ofiending  many  by  his  rigor. 
Here  he  brooded  upon  the  grand  design  which  had  long 
engaged  his  thoughts.  He  had  resob  '  to  complete  the 
acliievement  of  Father  Marquette,  to  .  .ce  the  unknown 
Mississippi  to  its  mouth,  to  plant  the  standard  of  his  king 
in  the  newly  discovered  regions,  and  found  colonies  which 
should  make  good  the  sovereignty  of  France  from  the  Frozen 
Ocean  to  Mexico.  Ten  years  of  his  earlj  life  had  passed, 
it  is  said,  in  connection  with  the  Jesuits,  and  his  strong 
mind  had  hardened  to  iron  under  the  discipline  of  that 
ri'lentless  school.  To  a  sound  judgment  and  a  penetrating 
sagacity,  he  joined  a  boundless  enterprise  and  an  adamantine 
constancy  of  purpose.  But  his  nature  was  stern  and  austere ; 
he  was  prone  to  rule  by  fear  rather  than  by  love ;  he  took 
counsel  of  no  man,  and  chilled  all  who  approached  him  by 
his  cold  reserve. 

>  TLe  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  II. 


i  i 


ll 


hi 


196  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1679 

Al  l\w  closi'  uf  tlio  yoar  1078,  his  pivpa rations  were  eoin- 
lilele,  and  he  (lespatched  his  alteiidants  to  the  banks  of  ihe 
river  Niagara,  whither  he  soon  followed  in  jierson.  Here 
he  bej^an  a  little  fort  of  jialisades,  and  was  the  first  military 
tenant  of  a  sjxit  destined  to  momentous  consei^uence  in 
future  wars.  Two  leajrues  above  the  cataract,  on  tiie  eastern 
bank   of  the   river,  he  built  the  first  vessel  which  ever  ex- 


S/anrd  Bock 

plored  the  waters  of  the  upper  lakes.  Her  name  was  the 
"GritHn,"  and  her  burden  was  forty-five  tons.  On  the 
seventh  of  August,  1670,  sire  began  her  adventurous  voyage 
amid  the  speechless  wonder  of  the  Indians,  who  stood  amazed, 
alike  at  the  unwonted  size  of  the  wooden  canoe,  at  the  flash 
and  roar  of  the  cannon  from  her  d<  cks,  and  at  the  carved 
figure  of  a  griltin,  which  rat  ciouched  upon  her  prow.  She 
bore  on  her  course  along  the  virgin  waters  of  Lake  Erie, 
through  the  beautiful  windings  of  the  Detroit,  and  among 


i68o] 


La  Salle 


197 


the  restless  billows  of  Lake  Huron,  where  a  furious  tempest 
had  well-uigh  engulfed  her.  La  Salle  pursued  his  voyage 
along  Lake  Michigan  in  birch  canoes,  and  after  protracted 
suffering  from  famine  and  exposure  readied  its  southern 
extremity  on  the  eighteenth  of  October. 

He  led  his  followers  to  the  banks  of  the  river  now  called 
t)ie  St.  Joseph.  Here,  again,  he  built  a  fort ;  and  here,  hi 
after  years,  the  Jesuits  placed  a  mission  and  the  government 
a  garrison.  Tlieuce  he  pushed  on  into  the  unknown  region 
of  the  Hlinois;  and  now  dangers  and  dithculties  began  to 
thicken  about  him.  Indians  threatened  hostility ;  his  men 
lost  heart,  clamored,  giew  mutinous,  and  repeatedly  deserted  ; 
and  worse  than  all,  nothing  was  heard  of  the  vessel  which 
had  been  sent  back  to  Canada  for  necessary  supplies.  Weeks 
wore  on,  and  doubt  ripened  into  certainty.  She  had  foun- 
dered among  the  storms  of  these  wilderness  oceans;  and 
her  loss  seemed  to  involve  the  ruin  of  the  enterprise,  since 
it  was  vain  to  proceed  farther  without  the  expected  supplies. 
In  this  disastrous  crisis.  La  Salle  embraced  a  resolution 
characteristic  of  his  intrepid  temper.  Leaving  his  men  in 
charge  of  a  subordinate  at  a  fort  which  he  had  built  on  the 
river  Hlinois,  he  turned  his  face  again  towards  Canada. 


igS  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [leso 


LA     SALIJ:s     WIXTKIJ     .KMI.'XKV     ALOXd     THK 
ILLINOIS   JnVER   AXI)    TIIK   vlHKAT    LAKKS » 


La  Sai,i,k  well  knew  what  was  bofore  liini,  and  iiotliing  luiL 
neces.sily  sjdinvtl  hiin  to  this  (Icsiifrale  journey.  He  says 
that  hecoiiM  trust  i.obody  else  to  jfo  in  his  stead,  and  that, 
unless  the  articles  lost  in  the  "  (iriilin  "  were  rejilaced  wilh- 
out  delay,  the  expedition  would  l)e  retardtnl  a  full  year,  and 
he  and  his  associates  consumed  by  its  expenses.  "There- 
fore," he  writes  to  one  of  them,  "  ihouj^h  the  thaws  of  ai>- 
proachinr,'  sprin<f  greatly  increased  the  difliculty  of  the  way, 
interrupted  as  it  was  every wliere  by  marshes  and  rivers,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  length  of  the  journey,  which  is  about  five 
hundred  leagues  in  a  direct  line,  and  the  danger  of  meeting 
Lulians  of  four  or  five  different  nations,  through  whose  coun- 
try we  were  to  pass,  as  well  as  an  Irorpiois  army,  which  we 
knew  was  coming  that  way ;  though  we  must  suffer  all  the 
time  from  iiunger;  sleep  on  the  open  ground,  and  often 
without  f«iod;  watch  by  night  and  nsarch  by  day,  loaded 
with  baggage,  sucli  as  blanket,  clothing,  kettle,  hatchet,  gun, 
powder, lead, and  skins  to  make  moccasins;  sometimes  push- 
ing through  thickets,  sometimes  climbing  rocks  covered  with 
ice  and  snow,  sometimes  wading  whole  days  through  marshes 
where  the  water  was  waist-deep  or  even  more,  at  a  season 
when  the  snow  was  not  entirely  melted,  —  though  I  knew 
all  this,  it  did  not  prevent  me  from  resolving  to  go  on  foot  to 

*  La  Salle  and  the  Discovery  of  tlio  Great  West,  Ch.  XIV. 


i68o|  La  Salle's  Winter  Journey  199 

Fort  Frontenac,  to  leani  ivr  myself  whul  Iiad  liecoine  of  my 
vessel,  and  bring  back  tlie  tilings  we  neotled." 

The  winter  bud  been  a  severe  one ;  and  when,  an  hour 
after  leaving  the  fort,  he  and  his  c()mj)anio»is  reached  the 
still  water  of  Peoria  Lake,  they  found  it  sheeted  with  ice 
from  shore  i  shore.  They  carried  their  canoes  u\t  the 
bank,  made  two  ude  sledges,  placed  the  light  vessels  ujum 
them,  and  dragged  them  to  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  where 
they  encamped.  In  the  morning,  they  found  the  river  still 
covered  with  ice,  too  weak  to  l>ear  them  and  too  strong  to 
permit  them  to  break  a  way  for  the  canoes.  I'liey  spent  the 
whole  day  in  carrying  them  through  the  woods,  toiling  knee- 
deep  in  saturated  snow,  llain  fell  in  tioods,  and  they  took 
shelter  at  night  in  a  deserted  Indian  but. 

In  the  morning,  the  third  of  March,  they  dragged  their 
canoes  half  a  league  farther;  then  launched  them,  and, 
breaking  the  ice  with  clubs  and  hatchets,  forced  their  way 
slowly  up  the  stream.  Again  their  progress  was  barred, 
and  again  they  took  to  the  woods,  toiling  onward  till  a 
tempest  of  moist,  half-liquid  snow  forced  them  to  bivouac 
for  the  night.  A  sharp  frost  followed,  and  in  the  morning 
the  white  waste  around  them  was  glazed  with  a  dazzling 
crust.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  they  could  use  their  snow- 
shoes.  Bending  to  their  work,  dragging  their  canoes,  which 
glided  smoothly  over  tlie  polished  surface,  they  journeyed 
on  hour  after  hour  and  league  after  league,  till  they  reached 
at  length  the  great  town  of  the  Illinois,  still  void  of  its 
inhabitants. 

It  was  a  desolate  and  lonely  scene :  the  river  gliding  dark 
and  cold  between  its  banks  of  rushes ;  the  empty  lodges, 
covered  with  cruster'  snow;  the  vast  white  meadows;  the 
distant  clitTs,  bearded  with   shining  icicles;  and  the  hills 


ml) 
1 1? 

I  u 

>  I  fl 


1l; 


It  T^f 


li 


200  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1680 

wrapped  in  forests,  wliich  glittered  fr<»m  afar  with  the  icy 
incrustations  that  cased  eadi  frozen  twig.  Vet  thi  iv  waa 
life  in  the  savage  landscape.  The  men  saw  buiraio  widiu" 
in  the  snow,  and  they  killed  one  of  them.  More  than  this: 
they  discovered  the  tracks  of  moccasins.  They  cut  ruslies 
by  the  e.lge  of  the  river,  i)iled  them  on  the  bank,  and  set 
them  on  iire,  that  the  smoke  might  attract  the  eyes  of 
savages  roaming  near. 

On  the  following  day,  while  the  hunters  were  smoking  the 
meat  of  the  buffalo.  La  Salle  went  out  to  reconnoitre,  and 
presently  met  three  Indians,  one  of  whom  proved  to  be 
Chassagoac,  the  principal  chief  of  the  Illinois.  La  Salle 
brought  them  to  his  bivouac,  feasted  them,  gave  them  a 
red  blanket,  a  kettle,  and  some  knives  and  hatchets,  made 
friends  with  them,  i)romised  to  restrain  the  Iroquois  from 
attacking  them,  told  them  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  the 
settlements  to  bring  arms  and  ammunition  to  defend  them 
against  their  enemies,  and,  as  the  residt  of  these  advances, 
gained  from  the  chief  a  promise  that  he  would  seud  provi- 
sions to  Tonty's  party  at  Fort  Crfeveco-ur. 

After  several  days  spent  at  the  deserted  town.  La  Salle 
prepared  to  resume  his  journey.  Before  his  departure,  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  remarkable  cliff  of  yellow 
sandstone,  now  called  Starved  Rock,  a  mile  or  more  aI)ove 
the  village,  —  a  natural  fortress,  which  a  score  of  resolute 
white  men  might  make  good  against  a  host  of  savages  ;  and 
he  soon  afterwards  sent  Tonty  an  order  to  examine  it,  and 
make  it  his  stronghold  in  case  of  need. 

On  the  fifteenth,  the   party  set  out  again,  carried  their 
canoes  along  the  bank  of  the  river  as  far  as  the  rapids  above 
Ottawa  ;i   then  launched  them  and  pushed  their  way  up- 
*  lu  the  present  State  of  Illinois.  — Ed. 


i68oi  La  Salle's  Winter  Journey  201 

ward,  battling  willi  tlie  lloating  ice,  which,  loosened  hy  a 
warm  rain,  drove  down  the  swollen  current  in  sheets.  On 
the  eighteenth,  they  reached  a  point  some  miles  below  the 
site  of  .Toliet,  and  here  found  the  river  once  more  completely 
closed.  IJespairiiig  of  farther  progress  by  water,  they  liid 
their  canoes  on  an  island,  and  struck  across  the  countr}-  for 
Ijake  "Michigan. 

It  was  tlie  worst  of  all  seasons  for  such  a  journey.  The 
nights  were  cold,  but  the  sun  was  warm  at  noon,  and  the 
half-thawed  i)rairie  was  one  vast  tract  of  mud,  water,  and 
discolored,  lialf-liquid  snow.  On  the  twenty-second,  they 
crossed  marslies  and  inundated  meadows,  wading  to  the  kni;e, 
till  at  noon  they  were  stopjHid  by  a  river,  jterhaps  the  Calu- 
met. They  made  a  raft  of  hard-wood  timber,  for  there  was 
no  other,  and  shoved  themselves  acnjss.  On  the  next  day, 
they  could  see  Lake  Michigan  dimly  glimmering  beyond 
the  waste  of  woods;  and,  after  crossing  three  swollen 
streams,  they  reached  it  at  evening.  On  the  twenty-fourth, 
they  followed  its  shore,  till,  at  nightfall,  they  arrived  at  the 
fort,  which  they  had  built  in  the  autumn  at  the  mouth  of 
the  St.  Jose|)h.  Here  La  Salle  found  Chapelle  and  Leblanc, 
tlie  two  men  whom  he  had  sent  from  hence  to  Michilli- 
mackinac,  in  search  of  the  "  Gritfin."  They  reported  that 
they  had  made  the  circuit  of  the  lake,  and  had  neither  seen 
her  nor  heard  tidings  of  her.  Assured  of  her  fate,  he  ordered 
them  to  rejoin  Tonty  at  Fort  Ci'fevecoeur ;  while  he  pushed 
onward  with  his  party  through  the  unknown  wild  of  South- 
ern Michigan. 

"  The  rain,"  says  La  Salle,  "  which  lasted  all  day,  and  the 
raft  we  were  obliged  to  make  to  cross  the  river,  stopped  us 
till  noon  of  the  twenty-fifth,  when  we  continued  our  march 
through  the  woods,  which  was  so  interlaced  with  thorns  and 


I 


In 


tr 


■m 


202  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [icso 

brainl.les  that  in  two  days  and  a  half  our  (dothes  were  all 
torn  and  our  faces  so  covered  with  Mood  that  we  hardly 
knew  each  other.  On  the  twenty-ei<,dilh,  we  found  the  woods 
more  oix-n,  and  he{,'an  to  fare  better,  meeting  a  good  deal  of 
game,  which  after  this  rarely  failed  us;  so  that  we  no  longer 
carried  provisions  with  us,  but  made  a  meal  of  roast  meat 
wherever  we  happened  to  kill  a  deer,  hear,  or  turkey.  These 
are  the  choicest  feasts  on  a  journey  like  this;  and  till  now 
we  had  generally  gone  without  them,  so  that  we  had  often 
walked  all  day  without  breakfast. 

"  The  Indians  d(j  not  hunt  in  this  region,  which  is  debat- 
able ground  between  five  or  six  nations  who  are  at  war,  and, 
being  afraid  of  each  other,  do  not  venture  mto  these  parts, 
except  to  surprise  each  other,  and  always  with  the  greatest 
luecautiou  and  all  possible  secrecy.     The  reports  of  our  guns 
a      the  carcasses  of  the  animals  we  killed  soon  led  some  of 
ti.uin  to  find  our  trail.     In  fact,  on  the  evening  of  the  twenty- 
eighth,  having  made  our  fire  by  the  edge  of  a  prairie,  we  were 
surrounded  by  them ;   but  as  the  man  on  guard  waked  us, 
ami  we  posted  ourselves  behind  trees  with  <«ir  guns,  these 
savages,  who  are  called  Wapoos,  took  us  for   Iroquois,  and 
thinking  that  there  nujst  be  a  great  many  of  us.  because  we 
did  not  travel  secretly,  as  they  do  when  in  small  bands,  they 
ran  off  without  shooting  their  arrows,  and  gave  the  alarm  to 
their  comrades,  so  that  we  were  two  days  without  meeting 
anybody." 

La  Salle  guessed  the  cause  of  their  fright ;  and,  in  order 
to  confirm  their  delusion,  he  drew  with  charcoal,  on  the 
trunks  of  trees  from  which  he  had  stripped  the  bark,  the 
usual  marks  of  an  Irocpiois  war-party,  witli  signs  for  pris- 
oners and  for  scalps,  after  the  custom  of  those  dreaded  war- 
riors.    This  ingenious  artifice,  as  will  soon  a{>pear,  was  near 


'68o]  La  Salle's  Winter  Journev  203 

l>r()vin<,'  the  ilestruclioii  of  the  whole  jKirty.     He  also  set  lire 
to  the  dry  j,Ma.ss  of  the  i-rairios  (.ver  which  he  uiid  his  men 
had  just  -issed,  thus  dcstroyin;^  the  traces  of  their  passajje. 
"  We  pradised  this  device  every  ni;,dit,  and  it  answered  very 
well  .so  lon{^  as  we  were  passiiijf  over  an  .)|ien  country;  imt, 
on  the  thirtieth,  we  got  into  great  marshes,  Hooded  hy  the 
thaws,  and  were  ol)li<red  to  cross  tliem  in  mud  or  water  up 
to  the  waist;  so  that  our  tracks  betrayed  us  to  a  band  of 
Alascoutins,  who  were  out  after  Inxiuois.     They  followed  us 
through  these  marslies  during  the  three  days  we  were  cross- 
ing them  ;  but  we  Jiiade  no  lire  at  niglu,  contenting  oui-selves 
with  taki!ig  oil'  our  wet  clothes  and  wrapping  ourselves  in 
our  blankets  on  some  dry  knoll,  where  we  sleiit  till  moniinfr 
At  last,  on  the  night   of  the  second  of  April,  there  came  a 
hard  frost,  and  our  clothes,  which  were  drenched  when  wo 
took  them  off,  froze  stiff  as  sticks,  so  that  we  could  .lot  juit 
them  on  in  the  morning  without  making  a  lire  to  thaw  them. 
The  lire   betrayed  us  to  the   Indians,  who  were  encamfwnl 
across  the  marsh  ;  and  they  ran  towards  us  with  loud  cries, 
till  they  were  stopped  half  way  l»y  a  stream  so  deep  that 
they  could  not  get  over,  the  ice  which  had  formed  in  the 
night  not  being  strong  enough  to  bear  them.     We  wei<t  to 
meet   them,   within   gun-shot;    and   whether  our   fire-arra.s 
frightened  them,  or  whether  they  thought  us  more  numerous 
than  we  were,  or  wheiher  they  really  meant  us  no  harm, 
they  called  out,  in  the  Illinois  language,  that  they  had  taken 
us  for  Iroquois,  but  now  saw  that  we  were  friends  and  broth- 
ers ;  whereupon,  they  went  off  as  they  came,  and  we  kept  on 
our  way  till  the  fourth,  when  two  of  my  men  fell  ill  and 
could  not  walk." 

In  this  emergency.  La  Salle  went  in  search  of  some  water- 
course by  which  they  might  reach  Lake  Erie,  and  soon  came 


204  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [«68o 

uiKmasmall  river,  which  \v,is  probuUly  the  H(ir.m.  Here, 
while  the  sick  men  rested,  their  companiutKS  iiiuile  a  canoe. 
There  were  ii<»  Itirch-trees;  and  they  were  forced  to  use  elm 
hark,  which  at  that  early  season  would  not  slip  freely  from 
the  wood  mail  they  loosened  it  with  li'>t  water.  Their  ca»io« 
hein*^  made,  th»>y  embarked  in  it,  and  for  a  lime  llonted  jiros- 
jicrously  down  the  stream,  when  at  len<,'th  the  way  was  barred 
by  a  matted  liarrii^ade  of  trees  fallen  across  the  water.  The 
sick  men  couhl  now  walk  a^jain,  and,  ]iushiM^'  eastward 
throuj,'h  the  forest,  the  larty  soon  reached  the  banks  of  the 
Detroit. 

Im  Salle  directed  two  of  the  men  to  make  a  canoe,  and  go 
to  Michillimacki  lac,  the  nearest  harl)ora<,'e.     With  the  re- 
maining,' two,  he  crossed  the  Detroit  on  a  raft,  ami,  strikinjr  a 
direct  line  across  the  covnitry,  reacheil    Lake    Krie,  not  far 
from  Point  Pel(?e.     Snow,  sleet,  and  rain  pelted  them  with 
little  intermission;  and  when,  after  a  walk  of  aliout  thirty 
miles,  they  gained  the  lake,  the  Mohc^'an  and  one  of  the 
Frenchmen  were  attacked  with  fever  and  spitting  of  blood. 
Only  one  man  now  remained  in  health.     With  his  aid,  I-a 
Salle  made   another    canoe,   and,   embarking   the   invalids 
pushed   for   Niagara.     It   was  Kaster    Monday   when   they 
landed  at  a  cabin  of  logs  above  the  cataract,  ])robably  on  the 
spot  where  the  "  (iritUn  "  was  built.    Here  several  of  La  Salle's 
men  had  been  left  the  year  before,  and  here  they  still  re- 
raained.     They  told  him  woful  news.     Not  only  had  he  lost 
the  "  Griffin,"  and  her  lading  of  ten  thousand  crowns  in  value, 
but  a  ship  from   France,  freighted  with  his  goods,  valued  at 
ir        than   twenty-two   thousand  livres,  had  been   totally 
Wiccked  at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Lawrence ;  and,  of  twenty 
hired  men  on  their  way  from  Europe  to  join  him,  some  had 
been  detained  by   his   enemy,  the  Intendant   Duchesneau, 


>««o]  La  Salle's  Winter  Journey  205 

while  all  l.iit  four  of  tlio  icMimin.I.r,  iK-ing  t..l,l  that  he  was 
(ieail,  had  fouinl  iiu-aiis  to  ivturii  home. 

His  thiL'c  followers  were  all  unfit  f..r  travel:  h»^  alono  re- 
laiiie.1  his  streujrtli  an.l  spirit.     Tai<inK  witli  him  three  fre.sh 
men  at  Xia^^ara,  he  re.Mime.l  his  journey,  and  on  the  sixth  of 
May  descried,  looming  throuj,'h  Jl..o,ls  of  rain,  the   familiar 
shores  of  hi.s  .seigniory  and  the  bastioned  walls  of  Fort  Fron- 
tenac.     During  sixty-live  days,  he  hud  toile.l  almost  inces- 
santly,  inivellin<r,  by  the  course  he  took,  about  a  thousand 
miles  throu-;!!  a  country  beset  witli  every  form  of  peril  and 
obstruction;  "the  most  arduous  journey," says  the  chroni.der, 
"  ever  made  by  Frenchmen  in  America."     Such  was  (.'aveiier 
^..'  LaSalle.    In  him,  an  uncon-iuerable  mind  held  at  its  ser- 
vice a  frame  of  iron,  an  i  ; .  •-■.  .>d  it  to  the  utn     <,  of  its  endur- 
ance.    The  pioneer  of  western  pioneers  was  no  rude  son  of 
toil,  but  a  man  of  thought,  trained  amid  arts  and  letters.i 

He  had  reached  his  goal;  but  for  him  there  was  neither 
rest  nor  i)eace.     Man  and  Nature  seemed  in  arms  against 
him.     His   agents    had    j.lundered  him;   his  creditors"  had 
seized  his  property  ;  and  several  of  his  canoes,  richly  laden, 
had  been  lost  in  the  rajuds  of  the  St.  Lawrence.    He  hastened 
to  Montreal,  where  his  sudden  advent  cause.l  great  astonish- 
ment;  and  where,  despite  his  crippled  resources  and  damaged 
credit,  he  succeeded,  within  a  week,  in  gaining  the  supplies 
which  he  required,  and  the  needful  succ<.rs  for  the  forlorn 
band  on  the  Illinois.     He  had  returned  to  Fort  Frontenuc, 

I  A  Rocky  Mountain  tnippr.  Vin<r  complimeTitn.l  on  the  haHihoo,]  of 
nirasflt  and  hw  corapanions,  onre  sai.l  to  H„.  writer,  "  That 's  .so  ;  but  a  con- 
tieman  of  the  right  .sort  will  stand  hardship  hotter  than  anvbo.ly  else  "  The 
history  of  Arctic  and  African  travel,  and  the  militarv  records  of  all  time  are 
a  standing  evidence  that  a  trained  and  developed  mind  is  not  the  enemy,' b„t 
the  active  and  powerful  ally,  of  constitution.il  h.irdihm.d.  The  ciilture  that 
enervates  instead  of  strengthening  is  always  a  fidse  or  a  partial  one. 


msM/JumKM 


tf 


206  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1680 

and  was  on  the  jxHut  of  embarking  for  their  relief,  wlien  a 
blow  fell  upon  him  more  disheartening  tlian  any  tliat  had 
preceded.     On  the  twenty-second  of   July,  two   voynrjcurs. 
Messier  and  Laurent,  came  to  liiin  witlx  a  letter  from  Tonty, 
who  wrote  that  soon  after  La  Salle's  departure  nearly  all  the 
men  had  deserte<l,  after  destroying  Fort  Ci-fevecceur,  plunder- 
ing the  magazine,  and  throwing  into  the  river  all  the  arms, 
goods,  and  stores  which  they  could  not  carry  off.     The  mes- 
sengers who  brought  tliis  letter  were  speedily  followed  by 
two  of  the  habitants  of  Fort  Frontenac,  who  had  been  trad- 
ing on  the  lakes,  and  who,  with  a  fidelity  which  the  unhappy 
La  Salle  rarely  knew  how  to  inspire,  had  travelled  day  and 
night  to  bring  him  tlieir  tidings.     They  reinnted  that  they 
had  met  the  deserters,  and  that,  liaving  been  reinforced  by 
recruits  gained  at  Michillimackinac  and  Niagara,  they  now 
numlKjred  twenty  men.      They  had  destroyed  tlie  fort  on 
the  St.  Joseph,  seized  a  quantity  of  furs  belonging  to  La 
Salle  at  Michillimackinac,  and  jdundered  the  magazine  at 
Niagara.     Here  they  had  separated,  eight  of  them  coasting 
tlie  south  side  of  I^ke  Ontario  to  find  liarltorage  at  Albany, 
a  common  refuge  at  that  time  of  this  class  of  scoundrels; 
while  the  remaining  twelve,  in  tliree  canoes,  made  for  Fort 
Frontenac,  along  the  north  shore,  intending  to  kill  La  Salle, 
as  the  surest  means  of  escaping  jiunisliment. 

He  lost  no  time  in  lamentation.  Of  the  few  men  at  Iiis 
command,  he  chose  nine  of  tlie  trustiest,  embarked  with 
them  in  canoes,  and  went  to  meet  the  marauders.  After 
passing  the  liay  of  Quint/-,  he  took  his  station,  with  five  of 
his  party,  at  a  point  of  land  suited  to  his  j)urpose,  and  de- 
tached the  remaining  four  to  keep  watch.  In  the  morning, 
two  canoes  were  discovered,  approaching  without  suspicion, 
one  of  them  far  in  advance  of  the  other.     As  the  foremost 


x68o] 


La  Salle's  Winter  J( 


lourney  207 

drew  near,  T^  Salle's  canoe  darted  out  from  under  the  leafy 
shore ;  two  of  the  men  liaiidling  the  paddles,  while  he,  with 
the  remaining  two,  levelled  tlieir  giins  at  the  deserters,  and 
called  on  them  to  surrender.  Astonished  and  dismayed, 
they  yielded  at  once;  while  two  more,  who  were  in  the 
second  canoe,  hastened  to  follow  their  example.  La  Salle 
now  returned  to  the  fort  with  his  prisonei-s,  placed  them  in 
custody,  and  again  set  forth.  He  met  the  third  canoe  ui^n 
the  lake  at  about  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  His  men 
vainly  plied  their  paddles  in  pursuit.  The  mutineers  reached 
the  shore,  took  post  among  rocks  and  trees,  levelled  their 
guns,  and  showed  fight.  Four  of  La  Salle's  men  made  a  cir- 
cuit to  gain  their  rear  and  dislodge  them,  on  which  they 
stole  back  to  their  canoe,  and  tried  to  escape  in  the  darkness. 
They  were  pursued,  and  summoned  to  yield ;  but  they  replied 
by  aiming  their  guns  at  their  pursuers,  who  instantly  gave 
them  a  volley,  killed  two  of  them,  and  captured  the  remain- 
ing three.  Like  their  companions,  they  were  placed  in 
custody  at  the  fort,  to  await  the  arrival  of  Count  Frontenac. 


2o8  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


I1681 


LA  SALLE'S  DISCOVERY  OF  LOUISIANA  1 


! 


II         1! 


On  the  twenty-first  of  December,  Tonty  uid  Membr^  set  out 
from  Fort  Miami  with  some  of  the  party  in  six  canoes,  and 
crossed  to  the  little  river  Chicago.  La  SaUe,  with  the  rest 
of  the  men,  joined  them  a  few  days  later.  It  was  the  dead 
of  winter,  and  the  streams  were  frozen.  They  made  sledges, 
placed  on  them  the  canoes,  the  baggage,  and  a  disabled 
Frenchman ;  crossed  from  the  Chicago  to  the  northern  branch 
of  the  Illinois,  and  filed  in  a  long  procession  down  its  frozen 
course.  They  reached  the  site  of  tlie  great  Illinois  village, 
found  it  tonantless,  and  continued  their  journey,  still  drag- 
ging their  canoes,  till  at  length  they  reached  open  water 
below  Lake  Peoria. 

La  Salle  had  abandoned  for  a  time  his  original  plan  of 
building  a  vessel  for  the  navigation  of  the  Mississippi. 
Bitter  experience  had  taught  him  the  difficulty  of  the  at- 
tempt, and  he  resolved  to  trust  to  his  canoes  clone.  They 
embarked  again,  floating  prosperously  down  between  the 
leafless  forests  that  flanked  the  tranquil  river;  till,  on  thf 
sixth  of  February,  they  issued  upon  the  majestic  bosom  of 
the  Mississippi.  Here,  for  the  time,  tlieir  i)rogress  was 
stopped;  for  the  river  was  full  of  floating  ice.  La  Salle's 
Indians,  too,  had  lagjijed  behind;  but,  within  a  week,  all 
had  arrived,  tlie  navigation  was  once  more  free,  and  they 
resumed  their  course.     Towards  eening,  they  saw  on  their 

'  La  Salle  anil  tlm  Di.sr.>vnry  of  the  Great  West,  Ch.  XX. 


!      1 


i68a]        La  Salle's  Discovery  of  Louisiana        209 

right  the  nicnith  of  a  great  river ;  and  the  clear  current  was 
invaded  by  the  headlong  torrent  of  the  Alissfturi,  o{ia(|ue 
witli  nnid.  They  huilt  their  camp-Hres  in  the  neighboring 
forest ;  and  at  daylight,  embarking  anew  on  the  dark  and 
mighty  stream,  drifted  swiftly  down  towards  unknown  desti- 
nies. They  pas.'sed  a  deserted  town  of  the  Tamaroas ;  saw, 
three  days  after,  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio;  and,  gliding  by 
the  wastes  of  bordering  swamp,  landed  on  the  twenty-fourth 
of  February  near  the  Third  Chickasaw  lUull's.  They  en- 
camped, and  the  hunters  went  out  for  game.  All  returned, 
excepting  Pierre  Prudhomme ;  and,  as  the  othei-a  had  seen 
fresh  tracks  of  Indians,  La  Salle  feared  that  he  was  killed. 
While  some  of  his  followers  >^'iilt  a  small  stockade  fort  on 
a  high  bluff  by  the  river,  others  ranged  the  woods  in  pursuit 
of  the  missing  hunter.  After  six  days  of  ceaseless  and 
fruitless  searcli,  they  met  two  Chickasaw  Indians  in  the 
forest ;  and,  through  them.  La  Salle  sent  presents  and  {)eace- 
mes.'sages  to  that  warlike  people,  whose  villages  were  a  few 
days'  journey  distant.  Several  days  later,  Prudhomme  was 
found,  and  brought  in  to  camp,  half-dead.  He  had  lost  his 
way  while  hunting,  and,  to  console  him  for  liis  woes,  La 
Salle  christened  the  newly  built  fort  with  his  name,  and 
loft  him,  with  a  few  others,  in  charge  of  it. 

Again  they  embarked ;  and,  with  every  stage  of  their 
adventurous  progress,  the  mystery  of  this  vast  New  World 
was  more  and  more  unveiled.  More  and  more  they  entered 
the  realms  of  spring.  The  hazy  sunlight,  the  warm  and 
drowsy  air,  the  tender  foliage,  the  opening  flowers,  betokened 
the  reviving  life  of  Nature.  For  several  days  more  they 
followed  the  writhings  of  the  great  river,  on  its  tortuous 
course  through  wastes  of  swamp  and  canebrake,  till  on  the 

thirteenth  of  March  they  found  themselves  wrapped  in  a 

14 


;l 


2IO  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [icsa 

thick  fog.     Neither  shore  was  visible;  but  they  heard  on 
the  right  the  booniing  of  an  Indian  drum  and  the  slirill 
outcries  of  the  warnlance.     La  Salle  at  (jnce  crossed  to  the 
opposite  side,  where,  in  less  than  an  hour,  his  men  threw 
up  a  rude  fort  of  felled  trees.     Meanwhile,  the  fog  cleared ; 
and,  from  the  farther  bank,  the  astonished  Indians  saw  tlie 
strange  visitors   at   th.ur  work.     Some  of   the    French  ad- 
vanced to  the  edge  of  the  water,  and  beckoned  them  to  come 
over.     Several  oi  them  approached,  in  a  wooden  canoe,  to 
within  the  distance  of  a  gun-shot.     La  Salle  displayed  'the 
calumet,  and  sent  a  Frenchman  t(j  meet  them.     He  was  well 
received;  and,  the  friendly  mood  of  tlie  Imlians  being  now 
apparent,  the  whole  party  crossed  tlie  river. 

On  landing,  they   found   themselves   at   a  town   of   the 
Kappa  band  of  the  Arkansas,  a  i)eo])le  dwelling  near  tlie 
mouth  of  the  river  which  bears  their  name.     "  The  whole 
village,"  writes  Membrd  to  his  sui)erior,  "  came  down  to  the 
shore  to  meet  us,  except  the  women,  who  had  run  off.     I 
cannot  tell  you  the  civility  and  kindness  we  received  from 
these  barbarians,  who  brought  us  i)oles  to  make  huts,  sup- 
plied us  with  firewood  during  tlie  three  days  we  were  among 
them,  and   took   turns   in   feasting  us.     But,  my  lieverend 
Father,  this  gives  no  idea  of  the  good  (pialities  of   these 
savages,  who  are  gay,  civil,  and  free-hearted.     The  young 
men,  though  the  most  alert  and  spirited  we  had  seen,  are 
nevertheless  so  modest  that  not  one  of  them  would  take'  the 
liberty  to  enter  our  hut,  but  all  stood  quietly  at  the  door. 
They  are  so  well  formed  that  we  were  in  admiration  at  their 
beauty.     We  did  not  lose  the  value  of  a  pin  while  we  were 
among  them." 

After  touching  at   several   other   towns   nf  this   v-.-ople 
the  voyagers  resumed  their  course,  gu'ded   by  two  of  the 


i68a]        La  Salle's  Discovery  of  Louisiana        2 1 1 

Arkansas ;  passed  the  sites,  since  become  historic,  of  Vicks- 
burg  and  CJrand  Gulf;  and,  about  three  hundred  miles  below 
the  Arkansas,  sloi»i)ed  by  the  edge  of  a  swamp  on  the 
western  side  of  the  river.  Here,  as  tlieir  two  guides  told 
them,  was  the  path  to  the  great  town  of  the  Taensas. 

On  the  next  morning,  as  they  descended  tlie  river,  they 
saw  a  wooden  cauijc  full  of  Imlians ;  and  Tonty  gave  chase. 
lie  had  nearly  overtakiMi  it,  when  more  than  a  hundred  men 
appeared  suddenly  on  the  shore,  with  bows  bent  to  defend 
their  countrymen.  La  Salle  called  out  to  Tonty  to  withdraw. 
He  obeyed ;  and  the  whole  party  eucamiHjd  on  the  opposite 
bank.  Tonty  ofVered  to  cross  tlie  river  with  a  peace-pipe, 
and  set  out  accordingly  with  a  small  party  of  men.  "When 
he  landed,  the  Indians  made  signs  of  friendship  by  joining 
their  hands,  —  a  proceeding  by  which  Tonty,  having  but  one 
hand,  was  somewhat  embarrassed ;  but  he  directed  his  men 
to  lespond  in  his  stead.  T^  Salle  and  Membrd  now  joined 
him,  and  went  with  the  Indians  to  tlieir  village,  three 
leagues  distant.  Here  they  spent  the  night.  "The  Sieur 
de  la  Salle,"  writes  IMembi-d,  "whose  very  air,  engaging 
maimers,  tact,  and  addrt-ss  attract  love  and  rchpect  alike, 
produced  such  an  effect  on  the  hearts  of  these  people  that 
they  did  not  know  how  to  treat  us  well  enough." 

On  the  sixth  of  April,  the  river  divided  itself  into  three 
broad  channels.  La  Salle  fijUowed  that  of  the  west,  and 
D'Autray  that  of  the  east;  while  Tonty  took  the  middle 
passage.  As  he  drifted  down  the  turbid  current,  between 
the  low  and  marshy  shores,  the  brackish  water  changed  to 
brine,  and  the  breeze  grew  fresh  with  the  salt  breath  of  the 
sea.  Then  the  br^^d  bosom  of  the  great  Gulf  opened  on  his 
sight,  tossing  its  restless  billows,  limitless,  voiceless,  lonely 
as  when  born  of  chaos,  without  a  sail,  without  a  sign  of  life. 


21?  The  Struggle  for  a  Co.^tinent  [.esa 

U  Salle,  i„  a  can..e,  coasted  L?ie  mr.tshy  borders  of  the 
sea;  and  tj.en  the  reunite.l  j^artit.;,  a:i.cur.ied  on  a  sjK.t  of 
«iry  ground,  a  .short  distance  above  the  mouth  of  the  river 
Here  u  column  was  n.mle  rea.ly.  bearing  the  arn.s  of  France 
and  inscribed  with  the  words,—  ' 

Lons  Lk  (JijAxi.,  ]{ov  „K  Fkanck  et  dk  Navarre, 

KK'INK;    1,K    XKIVli'MK    AviUI,,    1(182. 

The  Freuch.uen  were  nmsUMcd  under  arms;  and,  while 
the  Aew  EnjrluMd  iu.lians  and  their  s,,uaws '  looked  on  in 
wondenn.  .sdence,  they  .-hantcl  the  7V  Jfau,,  the  ErmuUat 
an.l  the  />././«,■  s.h-um  /,„■  Pu;,an.  Then,  amid  volleys  of 
musketry  and  shouts  of  Vive  Ir  /!,n,  U  Salle  ,.lante,l  the 
column  in  its  place,  and,  standing  near  it,  i.ro.-laimed  in  a 
loud  voice, — 

Mn  the  name  of  the  m..st  high,  mighty,  invincible,  and 
victorious  Prince,  Louis  the  Great,  by  the  grace  of  (Jod  King 
of  France  and  of  Navarre.  Fourteenth  of  that  name,  I  this 
ninth  day  of  April,  one  tliousand  six  hundred  and  eighty- 
two,  in  virtue  of  the  commission  of   his  Majesty,  which  I 
hold  in  my  hand,  and  which  may  be  seen  by  all  whom  it 
may  concern,  have  taken,  and  do  now  take,  in  the  name 
of  his  Majesty  and  of  his  successors  to  the  crown,  possession 
of  this  country  of  Louisiana,  the  seas,  harbors,  ports,  bays 
adjacent  straits,  and  all  the  nations,  peoples,  provinces,  cities' 
towns,  villages,  mines,  minerals,  fisheries,  streams,  and  rivers 
within  the  extent  of  the  said  Louisiana,  from  the  mouth  of 
the  great  river  St.  Louis,  otherwise  called  the  Ohio as 

'  La  Salle's  p.rty  inclu.lod  oishfr^n  of  Lis  Alx-n.-iki  and   Moho.  a,,  allies 
w.  h  ton  o    the,r  s,,uaw.s  and  their chil.lren.      ..Those,  his  new  frio;!!  .'^id 

li^Zi:^r'^''  ^'"^^  ""'""'^"^  ^"^"^  '-'  ^^^''^^  ^"«  border  hLn^U 


i68ai        La  Salle's  Discovery  of  Louisiana        213 

also  along  the  river  Coll)ert,  or  Mississippi,  and  the  rivers 
which  discharge  tliemselves  thereinto,  from  its  source  be- 
yond the  country  of  the  Nadouessioux  ...  as  far  as  its 
mouth  at  the  sea,  or  (Julf  of  Mexico,  and  also  to  the  mouth 
of  tlie  River  of  Palms,  upon  the  assurance  we  have  ijad  from 
tlie  natives  of  these  countries,  that  we  are  the  first  Euro|)eans 
wlio  have  descended  or  ascended  the  said  river  (Jolbert; 
hereby  protesting  against  all  who  may  hereafter  undertake 
to  invade  any  or  all  of  these  aforesaid  countries,  peojiles, 
or  lands,  to  tlie  prejudice  of  the  rights  of  his  Majesty, 
acquired  by  the  consent  of  the  nations  dwelling  herein.  0* 
which,  and  of  all  else  that  is  needful,  I  hereby  take  to 
witness  those  who  hear  me,  and  demand  an  act  of  the  notary 
here  present." 

Shouts  of  Vive  Ic  Roi  and  volleys  of  musketry  responded 
to  his  words.  Then  a  cross  was  planted  beside  the  column, 
and  a  leaden  plate  buried  near  it,  bearing  the  arms  of  France, 
with  a  Latin  inscription,  Ludovicus  Magnus  regnat.  The 
weather-beaten  voyagers  joined  their  voices  in  the  grand 
hymn  of  the   Vcxilla  Regis :  — 

"  The  banners  of  Heaven's  King  advance, 
The  mystery  of  the  Cross  shines  forth ;" 

and  renewed  shouts  of  Vive  le  Roi  closed  the  ceremony. 

On  that  day,  the  realm  of  France  received  on  parchment 
a  stupendous  accession.  The  fertile  plains  of  Texas;  the 
vast  basin  of  the  Mississippi,  from  its  frozen  northern 
springs  to  the  sultry  borders  of  the  Gulf;  from  the  woody 
ridges  of  the  AUeghanies  to  the  bare  i)eaks  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  —  a  region  of  savannahs  and  forests,  sun-cracked 
deserts,  and  grassy  prairies,  watered  by  a  thousand  rivers, 
ranged  by  a  thousand  warlike  tribes,  passed  beneath  the 


214  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  iiesa 

sceptre  vi  tlie  Sultan  of  Versailles;  ami  all  bv  virliie  <»f 
a  fec'lile  Imiiiaii  Vdice,  iiiaudibU'  at  half  a  mile. 

Louisiana  was  tlif  name  Itesttiwed  by  La  Salle'  on  the 
new  domain  of  the  Ficnch  crown.  The  rule  <»f  the  llourbons 
in  the  West  is  a  memory  of  the  ]>ast,  but  the  name  of  the 
Oreat  King  still  survives  in  a  narrow  corner  of  their  lo.st 
emiiire.  The  L(»uisiana  of  to-day  is  but  a  sin<^le  Slate  of  the 
American  repuldic.  The  Louisiana  (»f  !.a  Salle  .stretched 
from  the  Alle<,dianies  to  the  Kocky  Mountains;  from  the 
Rio  (Jrande  and  the  thilf  to  the  farthest  sj.rings  of  the 
Missouri. 

The  first  staj^e  of  his  enterjuise  was  accomplished,  but 
labore  no  less  arduous  remained  lu-hind.^  Iiepuirinj:^  to  the 
court  <»f  France,  he  was  welcomed  with  ridily  merited  favor, 
and  .soon  set  sail  for  the  mouth  of  the  Mi.ssissip])i,  with  a 
S(piadron  of  vessels  freij^hted  with  men  and  material  for  the 
projected  colony.  Hut  the  folly  and  obstinacy  of  a  jealous 
naval  commander  blighted  his  fairest  hopes.  The  s.piadron 
missed  the  mouth  of  the  river;  and  the  wreck  of  one  of  the 
vessels,  and  the  desertion  t)f  the  commander,  completed  the 
ruin  of  the  expedition.  La  Salle  landed  with  a  band  of  half- 
fami.slied  followers  on  the  coast  of  Texas;  but  di.saster  fol- 
lowed disaster,  and  as  a  desperate  resource  he  determined  to 
seek  the  Mississippi,  and  foll»»w  its  tortuous  course  towards 
Canada  where  lay  the  only  hope  of  rescue  for  the  despairing 
colony.  On  this  fatal  journey  he  met  his  death  at  the  hands 
of  one  of  his  own  followers. 

1  La  Salle  and  the  Discovery  of  the  Great  West,  Ch.  XXI. 
!"  The  Coiisi>iracy  of  Poutiac,  Vol.  I.  Ch.  II. 


16871 


The  Assassination  of  La  Salle 


2«5 


THE   ASSASSINATION   OF   LA   SALLE » 


HoLDiNd  a  northerly  course,  the  travellers  cntssetl  the 
Brazos,  and  reached  the  waters  of  the  Trinity.  The  weather 
was  unfavorahle,  ami  on  one  ctccasion  they  encanijied  in  the 
rain  during  four  or  five  days  together.  It  was  not  an  har- 
monious company.  I^  Salle's  cold  aiul  haughty  reserve  had 
returned,  at  least  for  those  of  his  followers  to  whom  he  was 
not  partial.  Duhaut  and  the  surgeon  Liotot,  both  of  whom 
v.'ere  men  of  some  property,  had  a  large  pecuniary  stake  in 
the  enterprise,  and  were  disappointed  and  incensed  at  its 
ruinous  result.  They  had  a  (juarrel  with  young  Moranget, 
whose  hot  and  hasty  temper  was  as  little  fitted  to  conciliate 
as  was  the  harsh  reserve  of  his  uncle.  Already  at  Fort  St. 
Louis,  Duhaut  had  intrigued  among  the  men ;  antl  the  mild 
admonition  of  Joutel  had  not,  it  seems,  sufficed  to  divert  him 
from  his  sinister  purposes.  Liotot,  it  is  said,  had  secretly 
sworn  vengeance  against  I^a  Salle,  whom  he  charged  with 
having  caused  the  death  of  his  brother,  or,  as  some  will  have 
\t,  his  nephew.  On  one  of  the  former  journeys,  this  young 
man's  strength  had  failed  ;  and.  La  Salle  having  ordered  him 
to  return  to  the  fort,  he  had  been  killed  by  Indians  on  the 
way. 

The  party  moved  again  as  the  weather  improved,  and  on 
the  fifteenth  of  March  encamiml  within  a  few  miles  of  a 
spot  which  La  Salle  had  passed  on  his  preceding  journey, 

1  La  Salle  and  the  Discovery  of  the  Great  West,  Ch.  XXVII. 


Vi' 


!   :i? 


2i6  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1687 

and  where  lie  had  left  a  quantity  o{  Imlian  -n  ami  beans 

in  cache;  that  is  to  say,  hidden  in  the  jrioiuid  or  in  a  Imllow 
tree.     As  provisions  u-.-ie  fallin<r  short,  he  sent  a  i»arty  from 
the  camp  to  find  it.     These  men  were  Duliaut,  T.iotot,  Tliens 
the  buccaneer,  Teissier,  l'An-hev."..,ue,  Xika  the  hunter,  and 
La  Salle's  servant,  Saget.     They  opened  the  nirhr,  and  found 
the  contents  spoiled;  but,  as  they  returned  from  their  hoot- 
less  errand,  they  saw  luifTalo ;  and  Nika  shot  two  of  them. 
They   now  encamped  on  the  spot,  and  sent  the  servant  to 
inform  La  Salle,  in  order  that  he  mijrht  send  horses  to  bring 
in  the  meat.     Accordinfjly,  on  the  next   day,   he  directed 
Moranget  and   De  Marie,  with  the  necessary  horses,  to  go 
with  Saget  to  the  hunters'  camp.     When  they  arrived,  they 
found  that  Duhaut   and  his  companions   had   already   cut 
up  the  meat,  and  laid  it  upon  scafTohls  for  smoking,  though 
it  was  not  yet  so  dry  as,  it  seems,  this  ])roccss  required. 
Duhaut  and  the  others  had  also  put  by,  for  theiuf^elves,  the 
marrow-bones  and  certain  portions  of   the  meat,  to  w!m  h, 
by  woodland  custom,  they  had  a  i)erfect  right.     :\roraiiget, 
whose  rashness  and  violence  had  once  before  caused  a  fatal 
catastrophe,  fell  into  a  most  unreasonable  fit  of  rage,  berated 
and  menaced  Duhaut  and  his  party,  and  ended  l)y  seizing 
upon  the  whole  of  the  meat,  including  the  reserved  portions. 
This  added  fuel  to  the  fire  of  Duhaut's  old  grudge  against 
Moranget  and  his  uncle.     There  is  reason  to  think  that  he 
had  harbored  deadly  designs,  the  execution  of  which   was 
only  hastened  by  the  present  outbreak.     The  surgeon  also 
bore  hatred  against  ^loranget,  whom  he  had  nursed  with 
constant  attention  when  wounded  by  an  Indian  arrow,  and 
who  had  since  repaid  him  with  al)use.     1'hese  two  now  look 
counsel  apart  with  Hiens,  Teissier,  and  I'Archev.Vpie  ;  and  it 
was  resolved  to  kill  Moranget  tliat  night.    Nika,  La  SiJle's 


i687l 


The  Assassination  of  La  Salic 


217 


devoted  follower,  and  Saget,  his  faithful  servant,  roxist  die 
with  him.  All  of  the  Jive  were  of  one  mind,  except  the 
pilot  Teissier,  who  neither  aided  nor  opposed  the  plot. 

Night  came  ;  the  woods  grew  dark ;  the  evening  meal  was 
finished,  and  the  evening  pijHJS  were  smoked.  The  order  of 
the  guard  was  arranged  ;  and,  doubtless  by  design,  the  first 
hour  of  the  night  was  assigned  to  Moranget,  the  second  to 
Saget,  and  the  third  to  Nika.  Gun  in  hand,  each  stood 
watch  in  turn  over  the  silent  but  not  sleeping  forms  around 
him,  till,  his  time  expiring,  he  called  the  man  who  was  to 
relieve  him,  wrapped  himself  in  his  blanket,  and  was  soon 
buried  in  a  slumber  that  was  to  be  his  last.  Now  the  assas- 
sins rose.  Duhaut  and  Hiens  stood  with  their  guns  cocked, 
ready  to  shoot  down  any  one  of  the  destined  victims  who 
should  resist  or  fly.  The  surgeon,  with  an  axe,  stole  towards 
the  three  sleepers,  and  struck  a  rapid  blow  at  each  in  turn. 
Saget  and  Nika  died  with  little  movement ;  but  Moranget 
started  spasmodically  into  a  sitting  posture,  gasping  and 
unable  to  speak ;  and  the  murderers  compelled  De  Marie, 
who  was  not  in  their  plot,  to  compromise  himself  by  de- 
spatching him. 

The  floodgates  of  murder  were  open,  and  the  torrent  must 
have  its  way.  Vengeance  and  safety  alike  demanded  the 
death  of  La  Salle.  Hi  m  .,  or  "English  Jem,"  alone  seems  to 
have  hesitated  ;  for  he  was  one  of  those  to  whom  that  stem 
commander  had  always  been  partial.  Meanwhile,  the  in- 
t  .  d  victim  was  still  at  his  camp,  about  six  miles  distant. 
It  is  easy  to  picture,  with  sufficient  accuracy,  the  features  of 
tlie  scene,  —  the  sheds  of  bark  and  branches,  beneath  which, 
among  blankets  and  buffalo-robes,  camp-utensils,  pack-saddles, 
rude  harness,  guns,  powder-horns,  and  bullet-pouches,  the  men 
lounged  away  the  hour,  sleeping  or  smoking,  or  talking  among 


■ll 


Fili  ' 


21^  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  i.es, 

theins,.lv(.s;  the  hlackone.!  k.'ttlrs  tlmt  Inu.jr  fn.m  tripMls  .,f 
p.I.H  OUT  til,-  (ir...s;  tin.  In.li.ms  Mr..llin;r  al.,  .i  the  pla.,.  .r 
lyin^,  Jik.'  .lujTs  in  the  ,siin,  with  eyos  half  shut,  yet  all  ..l.scr- 
vant ;  an.l.  i„  thu  luMul.lH.ring  n.eacKnv,  ih.  h.,r.s<«.  .razing 
under  tiie  eve  of  a  watchiii m. 

It  .vns  t!,.  eifrht.vnth  ..f  Mun-h.     Moranp  r  an.l  »u^  .■nm- 
panio.     lui,'  Wn  <  xptv;,..!  to  mum  t?  ■  nij-lit   !.cf..r.-;  hut 
Uie  vu.  1..  .Mv  pass,.,!,  and  tli.-v  did   t„  t   apiM-ar.     f.;i  Salle 
be.    -Mt'  'vrv  ,n,xiou.s.     He  resolved  t.»  go  and  look  lu-  then. 
bU.  .  -I  u-,.l]  k-.owir  .4  the  wayju.  t-M     .   Indians  wh.,  w.re 
al'O't   -.l...      .,n,  tha    he  ..vould  give  i\u   n  a  hatch,  t    if  they 
wouh:  guid..  ).in.     One  of  (hem  ac-eph  ,i  the    .frc,  ,  an.l  La 
Salle  ,„e,...n  J   (■    set  .  ut   ,n  the  m.,nn-,g,  a.  the  «anie  time 
ciireeting  J.nu.l  t-  hv  reu.ly  to  go  with  hin.     J.mtc-1  savs  ■ 
"  That  evening,  wh   -^  we  w.re  talkng  .t  out  what  couhl  have 
l.ai.i«,nied  to  the  M..ent  n.en,  h.    seemed  to  h:ive  a  j.resenli 
n.ent  .,f  what  was  t.,  take  plau-.     He  ask^d    ne  if  J  j,a,i 
heard  of  any  ma.  lunations  agai-    •  them,  or  if  1    ,ad  nouced 
any    had  .lesign    -n    the    part  ..,    Duhaut  and  the  ,vst      1 
answered  that  I  had  .    nd  no,  lung,  except  that  ih.v  some- 
times complain  ,1  ,.1   he    ,g  foun'   fault  with  so  oftJn     and 
that  this  was  all   I   knew,  hcsides  which,  as  tlun  uf      -...r- 
sua.l.'.l  that  I  wns  in  his  inten>st,  they  won!  1   not  ha      told 
me  of  any  had   .les.^n    -hi-y    might  have.     \\       were    v, -v 
uneasy  all  the  n>st  of  ih-"   evening." 

In  the  morning,  La  Salle  s.H  out  with  his  .jia., 
He  had  change.!  his  min.l  with  regar.1  t..  J.  I.  who,  .c 
now  directed  t..  remain  in  ,  harge  of  the  car,,  an.]  t..  k,-.„ 
a  careful  watch.  He  t..l,l  th.-  fnar  Ar.astas.  (.  .av  to  con.e 
with  hin,  umtea.l  ..f  .f.,.,te].  •  h..se  ,.,n,  whi.h  •  '  the  hest 
in  the  T-arty.  h-  hon-owe.l   f.  ,•  th.-  occasion,  as       -H  as  h^ 

pistol.     The  three  nro-ocde!     -  fh,:-  tv-.,v  T     -  r.      i      -  - 

'^^*^  THi,.  way.  La  .>all,  ,  ih*   tna 


.-ye 
'lie  u. 


'•V  i 


Tl 


le 


•^7] 


The  Assassinati'm  of  La  Salle 


219 


furti 
■}■'• 


or  i 


bis 

lit" 


&n<\  (he  Iii'Jan.  "All  the  \\u\  "  writes  i  le  friar,  "  he  sjvike 
to  nu»  of  nt.ihin^'  '>ut  matlors  >>i  ^»iL•r^ ,  graci',  uul  prt-destinn- 
ti<»n  ;  enlar^'ing  on  the  debt  h  'iwlmI  t.,  Ootl,  who  huii  savetl 
li  !i  iroiii  HO  iiiany  jierils  tlurii  ■?  iii'irc  than  twenty  year»  of 
travta  in  America.  Suddenly,  i  saw  luni  overwhelmed  with 
a  jTofr  ind  ,-adness  for  which  he  liiinself  could  not  account. 
Hi  wi!  so  much  vcd  tli  I  I  scarcely  knew  hira."  He 
s(H  1  ri><  'verei'  'n  usual  calnmes  ,  and  they  walked  on  till 
thcv  approaci  lae  camp  of  Duhant,  which  was  on  the 
of  :■:  -  nail  river.  L(H)ki!i  about  him  with  the 
V  lan,  L;i  Salle  saw  ean;les  circling  in 

rl  -  hii      IS  if  attracte.    ..    carcasses  of  beasts 

JS}  and  his  piste  ■  as  a  summons  to  any 
who  'it  l>e  within  hearing.  The  shots 
.e  ears  of  thi  conspirators.  Kightly  conjecturing 
l«y  whuiii  they  were  fii>'d,  several  <  '  them,  led  by  Duhaut, 
Hissed  the  river  at  a  little  distance  above,  where  trees  or 
oiHer  intervening  objects  hid  them  ''  n  :  >,'ht.  Duhaut  and 
the  surgeon  crouched  like  India:  ^  ne  long,  dry,  reed-like 
grass  of  the  last  suiamer's  growi 
in  ight  near  tlie  bank.  La  SiiHr 
.si  saw  him,  au<l,  calling  to  bin 
Ml  anget.  The  man,  without  lifting 
resjKict,  replied  in  an  agitated  and  broken  voice,  but  with  a 
tone  of  studied  insolence,  that  Moranget  was  strolling  about 
somewhere.  La  Salle  rebuked  and  menaced  him.  He  re- 
joined with  incr  .1  1(1  insolence,  drawing  back,  as  he  spoke, 
towards  the  ambuscade,  while  the  incensed  ci  amiander  ad- 
vanced to  chastise  him.  At  that  moment  a  shot  was  fired 
from  the  grass,  instantly  followed  by  another;  and,  pierced 
through  the  brain.  La  Salle  droi)ped  dead. 

Tlic  friar  at  his  -ide  stood  terror-stricken,  unable  to  ad- 


''Archeveque  stood 

iuing  to  advance, 

nded  where  was 

aat,  or  any  show  of 


■1     ■,! 


I) 


2 20  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1687 

vance  or  to  fly;  when  Duhaut,  rising  horn  the  ambuscade, 
called  out  to  him  to  take  courage,  for  he  had  nothing  to  fear. 
The  murderers  now  came  forward,  and  with  wild  looks  gath- 
ered about  their  victim.  «  There  thou  liest,  great  Bashaw ! 
There  thou  liest!"  exclaimed  the  surgeon  Liotot,  in  base 
exultation  over  the  unconscious  corpse.  With  mwkery  and 
insult,  they  stripped  it  naked,  dragged  it  into  the  bushes, 
and  left  it  there,  a  prey  to  the  buzzards  and  the  wolves. 

Thus  in  the  vigor  of  his  manhood,  at  the  age  of  forty-three, 
died  Robert  Cavelier  de  La  Salle,  "  one  of  the  greatest  men," 
writes  Tonty,  "of  this  age;"  without  question  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  explorers  whose  names  live  in  history.    His 
faithful  officer  Joutel  thus  sketches  his  portrait:  "His  firm- 
ness, his  courage,  his  great  knowledge  of  the  arts  and  sciences, 
which  made  him  equal  to  eveiy  undertaking,  and  his  untiring 
energy,  which  enabled  him  to  surmount  every  obstacle,  would 
have  won  at  last  a  glorious  success  for  his  grand  enterprise, 
had  not  all  his  fine  qualities  been  counterbalanced  by  a 
haughtiness  of  manner  which  often  made  him  insupportable, 
and  by  a  harshness  towards  those  under  his  command,  which 
drew  upon  him  an  implacable  hatred,  and  was  at  last  the 
cause  of  his  death." 

The  enthusiasm  of  the  disinterested  and  chivalrous  Cham- 
plain  was  not  the  enthusiasm  of  La  Salle;  nor  had  he  any 
part  in  the  self-devoted  zeal  of  the  early  Jesuit  explorers. 
He  belonged  not  to  the  age  of  tlie  knight-errant  and  the 
saint,  but  to  the  modern  world  of  practical  study  and  practi- 
cal action.  He  was  the  hero,  not  of  a  principle  nor  of  a 
faith,  but  simply  of  a  fixed  idea  and  a  determined  purpose. 
As  often  happens  with  concentred  and  energetic  natures,  his 
purpose  was  to  him  a  passion  and  an  inspiration;  and  he 
clung  to  it  with  a  certain  fanaticism  of  devotion.     It  was 


TiiK  Assassination  of  La  Sallk 


i«87l  The  Assassination  of  La  Salle  221 

the  offspring  of  an  ambition  vast  and  comprehensive,  yet 
acting  in  the  interest  both  of  France  and  of  civilization. 

Serious  in  all  things,  incapable  of  the  lighter  pleasures, 
mcapable  of  repose,  finding  no  joy  but  in  the  pursuit  of  great 
designs,  too  shy  for  society  and  too  reserved  for  popularity, 
often   unsympathetic   and   always   seeming  so,   smotherin' 
emotions  which  he  could  not  utter,  scliooled  to  universa' 
distrust,  stern  to  his  followers  and  pitiless  to  himself,  bear- 
mg  the  brunt  of  every  hardship  and  every  danger,  demand- 
ing  of  others   an   e.pial   constancy   joined   to   an    hnplicit 
deference,  heeding  n    counsel  but  his  own,  attemj.ting  the 
impossible  and  grasping  at  what  was  t.)o  vast  to  i-  l,!,—  'le 
contained  in  his  own  complex  and  painful  nature  tlie  chief 
springs  of  his  triumphs,  liis  failures,  and  his  death. 

It  is  easy  to  reckon  up  his  defects,  l»ut  it  is  not  easy  to 
hide  from  sight  the  Itoman  virtues  that  redeemed   them. 
Beset  by  a  throng  of  enemies,  he  stands,  like  the  King  of 
Israel,  head  and  shoulders  above  them  all.     He  was  a  tower 
of  adamant,  against  whose  impregnable  front  hardship  and 
danger,  the  rage  of  man  and  of  the  elements,  the  southern 
sun,  the  nortliern  blast,  fatigue,  famine  and  disease,  delay 
disappointment,  and  deferred  hope  emptied  their  quivers  in 
vain.     That  very  pride  which,  Coriolanus-like,  declared  itself 
most  sternly  in  the  thickest  press  of  foes,  has  in  it  something 
to   challenge   admiration.     Never,  under  the   impenetrable 
mad  of  paladin  or  crusader,  beat  a  heart  of  more  intrepid 
raettle  than  within  the  stoic  panoply  that  armed  the  breast 
of  La  Salle.     To  estimate  aright  the  marvels  of  his  patient 
fortitude,  one  must  follow  on  his  track  through  the  vast 
scene  of  his  interminable  journeyings,  those  thousands  of 
weary  miles  of  forest,  marsh,  and  river,  where,  again  and 
agam,  in  the  bitterness  of  battled  striving,  the  untiring  pil- 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  u^ 

grim  pushed  onward  towanis  the  goal  whi.-Ji  hP  wn 

f(i  nffniii       \        •  t>"'"  »nicii  lie  was  never 

"viiie  iJautol  i|.e  sum,  „.!,„„„„  , 

Louisiana.  "  coion}   ot 

»  The  ronsj.irary  of  Pontine,  Vol.  [.,  (•},.  |I. 


I6591 


Fran9ois  de  Laval 


223 


FRAN(;'OIS   DE    LAVAL 

[The  dominant  figure  who  moulded  the  policy  of  the  church 
in  Canada,  and  staini)ed  liis  personality  upon  almost  every 
institution  political  and  religious  in  the  New  France  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  now  demands  our  attention. 

Francois  Xavier  de  Laval  Montmorency,  a  cadet  of  the 
noble  house  of  Montmorency,  sailed  for  Canada  in  the  year 
IfiuO  with  the  rank  of  Vicar  Apostolic  and  the  title  of  liishop 
of  Petru'a.  He  was  then  thirty-six  years  of  age.  After 
many  years  of  dispute  with  the  Archbishop  of  Kouen,  who 
df'sired  to  exercise  a  personal  sway  over  all  ecclesiastical 
appointments  in  Canada,  I^aval  was  created,  in  1G74,  the  first 
liishop  of  Quebec.  He  forthwith  established  the  famous 
seminary  at  Quebec  which  now,  as  Laval  University,  still 
preserves  the  name  and  memory  t)f  its  founder.  His  char- 
acter was  stern  and  unyielding,  and  his  long  career  in  Canada 
was  marked  by  incessant  confiict  with  successive  governors. 
With  Argenson  he  quarrelled  on  the  (piestion  of  precedence. 
The  next  governor,  Avangour,  incurred  his  wrath  fur  con- 
doning the  distribution  of  brandy  among  the  Indians.  Mezy, 
his  own  nominee,  presumed  to  interfere  with  I^val's  predi)m- 
inance  in  the  afTairs  of  the  Council,  and  bitter  friction  was 
the  result.  His  actions  were  j)ronipted  by  no  selfish  motives 
of  jK-'rsonal  aggrandizement,  but  resulted  from  his  unflinch- 
ing loyalty  to  his  churcli.  At  last,  worn  out  with  his  labors, 
he  went  to  Paris,  and  there  resigned  his  liisliopric  in  January 
1088.     Ueturning   to   the   country   of  his   choice,  he   died 


1 


224  The  Sruggle  for  a  Continent  [,659 

at  Quebec  «u  the  sixth  of  May,  1708,  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
SIX.  —  Kd.j 

Several  portraits  of  Laval  are  extaut.^  A  drooj.iug  nose 
of  portentous  size;  a  well-foriued  f(.rehead;  a  hw^v  strongly 
arciied;  a  briglit.  clear  eye;   scauty  hair,  half  hidden  by  a 

black    skulkap;    thin    lips, 
compressed  and  rigid,  betray- 
ing a  s]iirit  not  easy  to  move 
or  ct)nvince ;  features  of  that 
indescribalde  cast  which 
marks  the  i)riestly  type:  such 
is  Laval,  as  lie  looks  grindy 
down  on  us  from  the  dingy 
canvas  of  two  centuries  ago. 
He  is  one  of  those  concern- 
ing wliom    Protestants   and 
Catholics,  at  least  ultramon- 
tane   Catholics,    will    never 
agree  in  judgment.    Tlie  task 
of  eidogizing  him  may  safely 
be  left  to  those  of  his  own 
way  of  thinking.      It   is   for  us  to  regard   him    from   the 
standpoint   of    secular    history.      And,    first,   let   us   credit 
Inm  with  .cmcerity.     He  believed    firndv  that    the  princes 
and  rulers  of   this  world  ouglit  to  be  subject  to  guidance 
and  control  at  tlie  hands  of  the  Pope,  the  Vicar  of  Christ 
on  oartli.    lUa  he  himself  was  the  Pope's  vicar,  and,  so  far  as 
he  bounds  of  Canada  extended,  the  Holy  Father  ha.l  clothed 
•nu  witli  his  own  authority.     The  glory  of  (Jod  demanded 
that  this  authority  should  suffer  no  abatement,  a.ul  he,  Laval, 

*  The  Old  iioginiu  in  Caiiiul.i,  Ch.  VIM. 


Mijr.  <!,■   Laval 


»659l  Fran9ois  de  Laval  2:' 5 

woulil  lie  guilty  before  Heaven  if  he  did  not  uphold  the 
suproniaty  of  tlie  church  over  the  powers  both  of  earth  and 
of  hell. 

Of  the  faults  which  he  owed  to  nature,  the  !»n»H'tpal  seems 
to  have  been  an  arbitrary  and  domineering  ,  r.  He  was 
one  of  those  wlm  by  nature  lean  always  to  tl.  ;  1  of  author- 
ity ;  and  in  the  English  Kevolution  he  would  inevitably  have 
stood  for  the  Stuarts;  or,  in  the  vVmcrican  IJcvoIution,  for 
the  Crown.  Hut  being  above  all  things  a  Catholic  and  a 
priest,  he  was  drawn  by  a  constitutional  necessity  to  the 
ultramontane  party,  or  the  party  of  cctitralizalion.  He 
fought  lustily,  in  his  way,  against  the  natural  Jiian ;  and  hu- 
mility was  the  virtue  to  the  culture  of  which  he  gave  his 
chief  attention,  but  soil  and  climate  were  not  favoralde.  His 
life  was  one  long  assertion  (.if  the  authority  of  the  church, 
and  this  authority  was  lodged  in  himself.  In  his  stubltorn 
fight  for  ecclesiastical  ascendancy,  he  was  aided  by  the  im- 
pulses of  a  nature  that  loved  to  rule,  and  could  not  endure 
to  yield.  His  principles  and  his  instinct  of  domination  were 
acting  in  perfect  unison,  and  his  conscience  was  the  hand- 
maid of  his  fault.  Austerities  and  mortifications,  playing  at 
beggar,  sleej)ing  in  beds  full  of  fleas,  or  performing  prodigies 
of  gratuitous  dirtiness  in  hospitals,  however  fatal  to  self- 
respect,  could  avail  little  against  influences  working  so 
powerfully  and  so  insidiously  to  stimulate  the  most  subtle 
of  human  vices.  The  history  of  the  Koman  Church  is  full  of 
Lavals. 

The  Jesuits,  adepts  in  human  nature,  had  made  a  saga- 
cious choice  when  they  put  forward  this  conscientious,  zeal- 
ous, dogged,  and  i)ugnacious  priest  to  tight  their  battles.  Nor 
were  they  ill  pleased  that,  for  the  present,  he  was  not  Bishop 
of  Canada,  but  only  vicar-apostolic;  for,  such  being  the  case, 

15 


226  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [,659 

they  could  have  him  recalled  if.  i,u  trial,  they  did  not  like 
him,  while  an  unacceptable  bishop  would  be  an  evil  past 
remedy, 

Canada  was  entering  a  state  of  transition.    Hitherto  eccle- 
siastical inlluence  had  been  all  in  all.    The  Jesuits,  by  far  the 
most  educated  and  able  bwly  of  men  in  the  colony,  had  con- 
trolled it,  not   alone   in  things   si)iritual,  but  virtually   in 
things  temporal  also;  and  the  governor  may  be  said  to  have 
been  little  else  than  a  chief  of  police,  under  the  direction 
of  the  missionaries.      The  early  governors  were  tluMiiselvcs 
deeply  imbued  with  the  missionary  spirit.     Champlain  was 
earnest  above  all  things  for  converting  the  Indians;  Mont- 
inagny  was  half   monk,  for   he  was  a   knight  of  Malta  ; 
d'Ailleboust  was  so  insanely  pious,  that  he  lived  with  his  wife 
like  monk  and  nun.     A  change  was  at  lian-l     From  a  mission 
and  a  trading  station,  Canada  was  soon  to  become,  in  the  true 
sense,  a  colony ;  and  civil  government  had  begun  to  assert 
itself  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Uwrence.     The  epoch  of  the 
martyrs  and  apostles  was   passing  away,  and  the  man  of  the 
sword  and  the  man  of  the  gown  _  the  soMicr  and  the  legist 
—  were  threatening  to  supplant  the  paternal  swav  of  priests; 
or,   as    Uval   might   have  said,   the   hosts    of 'this   world 
were   beleaguering   the    sanctuary,   and   he   was   called   of 
Heaven  to   defend   it.     His   true  antagonist,  though   three 
thousand   miles   away,  was  the  great   minister  Colbert,  as 
pnrely  a  statesman  as  ti.e  vicar  apostolic  was  i.urely  a  priest. 
Laval,  no  doubt,  could  see  behind  the  statesman's  back  an- 
other adversary,  the  devil. 

Argenson  was  governor  when  the  crozier  a  J  the  sword 
bt-an  to  clash,  which  is  merely  another  way  of  saving  that  he 
was  governor  when  Laval  arrived.  He  seems  to  "have  been  a 
man  of  education,  moderation,  and  sense,  and  he  was  also  an 


1059]  Fran9ois  de  Laval  227 

earnest  Catholic;  bvst  if  liaval  had  liis  duties  t(i  CkkI,  so  had 
Argenson  his  duties  to  the  kinjj,  of  whose  authority  ho  was 
the  representative  and  guardian.  If  the  first  collisions  seem 
trivial,  they  were  no  less  the  symptoms  of  a  grave  antagonism. 
Argenson  could  have  purchased  i)eace  only  by  becoming  an 
agent  of  the  church. 

The  vicar  aj)ostolic,  or,  as  he  was  usually  styled,  the 
bishop,  being,  it  may  be  remembered,  titular  llishop  of 
retriea  in  Arabia,  presently  fell  into  a  ipiarrel  with  the  gov- 
ernor touching  the  relative  position  of  their  seats  in  t;hurch, 
—  a  point  which,  by  the  way,  was  a  subject  of  contention 
for  many  years,  and  under  several  successive  governors. 
This  time  the  case  was  referred  to  the  ex-governor,  d'Aille- 
boust,  and  a  temporary  settlement  took  place.  A  few  weeks 
after,  on  the  fete  of  St.  Francis  Xavier,  when  the  Jesuits 
were  accustomed  to  ask  the  dignitaries  of  the  colony  to  dine 
in  their  refectory  after  mass,  a  fresh  difficulty  arose, — 
Should  the  governor  or  the  bishop  have  the  higher  seat  at 
table  ?  The  question  defied  solution ;  so  the  fathers  invited 
neither  of  vhem. 

Again,  on  Christmas,  at  the  midnight  mass,  the  deacon 
offered  incense  to  the  bishop,  and  then,  in  oltedience  to  an 
order  from  him,  sent  a  subordinate  to  offer  it  to  the  governor, 
instead  of  offering  it  himself.  Laval  further  insisted  that 
the  i)riests  of  the  choir  should  receive  incense  before  the 
governor  received  it.  Argenson  resisted,  and  a  bitter  quarrel 
ensued. 

The  late  governor,  d'Ailleboust,  had  been  church  warden 
ex  officio ;  and  in  this  pious  community  the  office  was  es- 
teemed as  an  addition  to  his  honors.  Argenson  had  thus 
far  held  the  same  position;  but  Laval  declared  that  he 
should  hold  it  no  longer.     Argenson,  to  whom  the  bishop 


22«  The  Struggle  for  a  t'ontinent        [,659-60 

had  m,t  sfH.kc.  on  the  sul.jiM-t,  canu,  s.k,„  aftor  to  a  luwliufr 
••f  the  wanlrns.  ami,  Ikmhj,'  <  lialh-dKnl,  .lenied  I^ivals  rijr|,t 
to  .'.isMiiss  him.  A  .lispiih.  en.s,u.,|,  i„  „.hi<-h  the  hishop, 
a.M.or,ii„jr  to  his  .l,.M,it  fiifn.ls.  used  laiifrua-e  „ot  very  re- 
S|>eitliil  to  th..  icpivsciitative  of  lovnUv. 

On  .Kcasi.,,,  ,.r  ,!„.  ".soh'.nn.rate.hisn.,"  the  bishop  in- 

Mstnl  that  the  ehildren  .shouhl  sahile   him  hefoie   sahitir.R 

the  goveii.nr.     A.|r,.„son,  heariii-  of  this,  .U-elined  to  comt" 

A  eompromise  was  eontiived.     It  was  agre.'d  that  when  the 

rival  di^'iiitaries  entered,  th.'  .hihlren  .sh..uld   he   husied   in 

some  manual  exerei.se  whi.l,  .should  j.revent  tlieir  .saluting 

either.     Xeverlheless,  two  l.ov.s,"  enticed  and  set  on  by  their 

parents."  :ialuted  the  {Tovernor  first,  t..  the  great   indignation 

of  Laval.     They  were  whipped  on  the  next  day  for  hreaeh  of 

orders. 

Next  there  was  a  sharp  .juarrel  about  a  sentence  pro- 
nouneed  by  Laval  against  a  heretic,  to  which  the  governor. 
go.^d   Catliolic   as   he   wa.s,  took   exception.     I'alm   .Sunday 
eame,  and  there  could  be  no  procession  and  no  distribution 
of  branches,  because  the  governor  and  the  bishoj)  could  not 
agree  on  points  of  precedence.    On  the  day  of  the  Fete  Dieu, 
however,  there  was  a  grand  procession,  which  stopj^d  from 
time  to  time  at  tcmi.orary  altars,  or  repomirs,  placed  at  in- 
tervals along  its  course.     One  of  these  was  in  the  fort,  where 
the  soldiers  were  drawn  up,  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  pro- 
cession.    Laval  demanded  that  they  should  take  off  their 
hats.     Argensoii  assented,  and  the  soldiers  stood  uncovered. 
Laval  now  insisted  that   they  .shoidd  kneel.     The  governor 
replied  that  it  was  tlieir  duty  as  soldiers  to  stand:  where- 
upon the  bishop  refused  to  stop  at  the  altar,  and  ordered 
the  procession  to  move  on. 

The  p.bnve  incidents  are  ^,ct  down  in  the  private  journal 


iMi)  Francois  de  Laval  229 

of  the  superior  of  the  .h'suilM,  wliich  was  not  meant  for  the 
|)ubli(!  eye.  The  bi.Hhop,  it  will  be  seen,  was.  by  the  showing 
of  his  frienils,  in  most  lases  tlie  ajj^ressor.  The  disputes  in 
<|uestion,tlioii^h  of  a  nature  to  provoke  a  smile  on  irreverent 
lips,  were  by  no  means  so  puerile  as  they  appear.  It  is 
(iitticult  in  a  nioderii  tlemot;ratic  sm-iety  to  conceive  the 
substantial  imjKirtance  of  the  signs  and  symbols  of  dignity 
ntid  authority,  at  a  time  and  among  a  peojile  where  they 
Nvt're  adjusted  with  tlie  most  scruitulous  precision,  and  ac- 
cepted by  all  classes  as  ex|H>nents  of  relative  degrees  in  the 
social  ami  political  .scale.  Whether  the  bi.shop  or  the 
governor  .shouM  sit  in  the  higher  seat  at  table  thus  Itecame 
a  jHjlitical  question,  for  it  defined  to  the  popular  understand- 
ing the  position  of  Church  and  State  in  their  relations  to 
government. 


230  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [i68g 


THE    IlJOgUOIS   TKRHOR' 

TnK  clasinjj  days  of  Denonville's  administration  were  days 
of  ploom  and  consternation  for  tlie  colony. 

In  the  direction  of  the  Iroquois,  there  was  a  h)ng  and 
ominous  silence.     It  was  broken  at  last  by  the  crash  of  a 
thunderbolt.     On   the   niglit   between  the  fourth  and   fifth 
of  Au^'ust,  1689,  a  violent  hail-storm  burst  over  Lake  St. 
Louis,  an  ex^tansion  of  the  St.  Lawrence  a  little  above  Mon- 
treal.    Concealed  by  the  temi)est  and  the  darkness,  fifteen 
hundred  warriors  landed  at  La  Chine,  and  silently  |H)sted 
themselves  about  the  houses  of  the  sleeping  settlers,  then 
screech  ■(!   the   war-whoop,   and    l>cgan   tiie   most   frightful 
massacre  in   Canadian   histor}-.     The   houses  were  burned, 
and  men,  women,  and  children  indiscriminately  but(  hered. 
In  the  neigliborhood  were  three  stockade  forts,  called  \t6my, 
Ifoland,  and  T^  Presentation;  and  they  all  had  garrisons. 
There  was  also   an   encampment  of  two  hundred  regid.irs 
about  three  miles  distant,  under  an  oflicer  named  Sul)ercase, 
then  absent  at  Montreal  on  a  visit  to  Denonville,  who  had 
lately  arrived  with  his  wife  and  family.     At  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  troops  in  this  encampment  heard  a  cannon- 
shot  from  one  of  the  forts.     They  were  at  once  ordered  under 
arms.     Soon  after,  they  saw  a  mrni  running  towards  them, 
just   escaped  from   tlie  butchery.     He  told  his  story,  and 
passed  on  with  the  news   to  Montreal,  six    miles  distant. 

'  Count  Frontcnae  ami  New  Friinee  umler  Louis  XIV.,  Cli.  I.X. 


1089)  The  Iroquois  Terror  231 

Then  sevpral  i>ij,ntives  apix-nred,  rhaw      by  a  hand  of   Im 

(jiutis,  wh<i  gavo  over  the  pursuit  ul      j^lit  of  the  soldierf*, 

but  pillaged  several  houses  before  tlieii  eyes.     Tlie  day  was 

well  advanced    k'fore    Suhercase  arrive  1.     He  ordered  the 

troops  to  march.     AlM>ut  a  hundred  armed  inhabitants  nad 

joined  them,  and  they  moved  together  towards  Ia  Chine. 

]f°re  they  found  the  houses  still  l)urning,  md  the  botlies  of 

tiieir  inmates  strewn  among  them  or  hangiii<;  from  the  stakes 

where  they  had  been  tortured.     They  learned  from  a  Krencli 

surgeon,  escaiwd  from  the  enemy,  that  ihe  Irofjuois  were  all 

encamjied  a  mile  and  a  half  farther  on,  beliind  a  tract   of 

forest.     Subercase,   whose  force  had  been  .stu-ngthened  by 

troops  from  the  forts,  resolved  to  attack  them;  and,  had  he 

been  allowed  to  do  so,  he  would  probably  have  punished 

them  severely,  for  most  of  them  were  heljilessly  dmnk  with 

brandy  taken  from  the  houses  of  the  traders.    Sword  in  hand, 

at  tlie  head    ?  his   liOn,  <he  daring  ohicer  entered  the  forest; 

but,  at  tl  !-.   ■nom*'nt,a  v  1  e  from  the  rear  commanded  a  halt. 

It  was    ',<*    >.'  ;ie  <  1.  v  Jier  de  Vaudreuil,  just  come  from 

Montrea!     ali    , '  .-'itive  orders  from  Denoj.ville  to  run  no 

risks  an     '■i/"'*.   folely  on  the   defersiv .      Subercase  was 

furious.     Hipii  words  passed  iH-t.vci'U  Mm  and  Vaudreuil, 

hut  he  was  forced  to  obey. 

The  troops  were  led  back  to  Fort  Roland,  where  about  five 
htuidred  regular*  lud  militia  'xcim  now  follected  under  com- 
mand of  Vaudr.  ul.  (^n  the  next  day,  eighty  men  from  Fort 
Kdmy  attempted  to  join  them ;  but  the  Iroquois  had  slept  off 
the  effect  of  their  orgies,  and  were  again  on  the  alert.  The 
unfortunate  detachmt  was  set  upf)n  by  a  host  of  savage.s, 
and  cut  to  pieces  in  fuli  '.ght  of  Fort  Roland.  All  were 
killed  or  captured,  except  •aj  Moyne  de  Longueuil,  and  a  few 
others,  w^ho  escaped  within  the  gate  of  Fort  R^my. 


232  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (,689 

Montreal  was  wild  with  tern.r.     It  had  been  fortiKed  with 
palisades  since  the  war  be-an ;  but,  though  tliere  were  troops 
in  the  town  under  the  goveriior  himself,  the  people  were  in 
mortal  dread.     No  attack  was  made  either  on  the  town  or 
on  any  of  the  forts,  antl  such  of  the  inhabitants  as  couhl 
reach  them  were  safe  ;  while  the  Iroquois  held  undispute.l 
possession  of  the  open  country,  burned  all  the  houses  and 
barns  over  an  extent  of  nine  miles,  and  n^amed  in  small 
parties,  pillaging  and  scalping,  over  more  than  twenty  miles 
There  is  no  mention  of  tlieir  having  encountered  oppo;  ^tion; 
nor  do  they  seem  to  have  met  with  any  loss  but  that  of 
some  warriors  killed  in  the  attack  on  the  detachme.it  from 
Fort  li^my,  and  that  of  three  drunken  stragglers  who  were 
caught  and  thrown  into  a  cellar  in  Fort  La  Prdsentation 
When  they  came  to  their  senses,  they  defied  their  captors, 
and  fought  with  such  ferocity  that  it  was  necessary  to  shoot 
them.    Charlevoix  says  that  the  invaders  remained  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Montreal  till  the  middle  of  October,  or  more 
than  two  months ;  but  this  seems  incredible,  since  troops 
and  mUitia  enough  to  drive  them  all  into  the  St.  Lawrcnce 
might  easily  have  been  collected  in  less  than  a  week.    It  is 
certain,  however,  that  their  stay  was  strangely  long.     Troops 
and  inhabitants  seem  to  have  been  paralyzed  with  fear. 

At  length,  most  of  them  took  to  their  canoes,  and  recrossed 
Lake  St.  Louis  in  a  body,  giving  ninety  yells  to  show  that 
they  had  ninety  prisoners  in  their  clutches.  This  was  not 
all ;  for  the  whole  number  carried  off  was  more  than  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty,  besides  about  two  hundred  who  had  the 
good  fortune  to  be  killed  on  the  spot.  As  the  I.o.juois 
passed  the  forts,  they  shouted,  «  Onontio,  you  deceived  us, 
and  now  we  have  deceived  you."  Towards  evening,  they 
encamped  on  the  farther  side  of  the  lake,  and  began  to  tor- 


icsg]  Th'^  Iroquois  Terror  233 

ture  and  devour  their  prisoners.  On  that  miserable  night, 
stupefied  and  sj)eechless  groups  stood  gazing  from  the  strand 
of  La  Chine  at  the  lights  that  gleamed  along  the  distant  shore 
of  Chateaugay,  where  their  friends,  wives,  parents,  or  children 
agonized  in  the  fires  of  the  Iroquois,  and  scenes  were  enacted 
of  indescribable  and  nameless  horror.  The  greater  part  of 
the  prisoners  were,  however,  reserved  to  be  distributed  among 
the  towns  of  the  confederacy,  and  there  tortured  for  the 
diversion  of  the  inhabitants.  While  some  of  the  invaders 
went  home  to  celebrate  their  triumph,  others  roamed  in  small 
parties  through  all  the  upper  parts  of  the  colony,  spreading 
universal  terror. 

Canada  lay  bewildered  and  benumbed  imder  the  shock  of 
this  calamity ;  but  the  cup  of  her  misery  was  not  full. 
There  was  revolution  in  England.  James  II.,  the  friend 
and  ally  of  France,  had  been  driven  from  his  kingdom,  and 
William  of  Orange  ha  1  seized  his  vacant  throne.  Soon  there 
came  news  of  war  between  the  two  crowns.  The  Iroquois 
alone  had  brought  the  colony  to  the  brink  of  ruin ;  and  now 
they  would  be  supported  by  the  neighboring  British  colonies, 
rich,  strong,  and  populous,  compared  to  impoverished  and 
depleted  Canada.^ 

'  Oovcrnor  Dcnonvillc  was  succeeded  in  1689  by  Louis  de  Riiade,  Comte 
de  Frontenac,  the  most  distin<;ui.shed  of  the  goveniors  of  New  France.  Ho 
was  first  appointed  to  the  post  in  1672,  but  was  recalled  ten  years  later  as 
the  result  of  bitter  friction  with  the  Intendant  Duchesm-au.  The  interval 
between  his  dismissal  in  1682  and  liis  ,-e-appointment  in  1689  was  rife  with 
disaster  for  Canada.  Frontenac  once  more  at  the  head  of  affairs  promptly 
assume<l  the  ajrsjressive.  He  sent  three  expeditions  across  the  border  to 
harry  the  English  folonies,  who  made  reprisal  in  1690  by  a  determined  attack 
u|>nn  Queliec  under  the  command  of  Sir  William  Phips.  The  'English  were 
repulsed  and  French  prestige  in  America  was  in  uonsecfuence  much  enhanced. 

Fronteiiai.'s  brilliant  administration  dosed  with  his  death  in  November, 
ICyS,  in  his  seventy-eighth  year.  —  Ed. 


234  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1690 


THE  MASSACHUSETTS  EXPEDITION  AGAINST 

gUEBKC'i 

When,  after  his  protracted  voyage,  I'liips  sailetl  into  the 
liasin  of  guebec,*  one  of  the  grandest  scenes  on  tlie  western 
continent  opened  upon  !iis  sight :  the  wide  exjianse  of  waters, 
(he  lofty  promontory  beyond,  and  the  opposing  heights  of 
Ix'vi ;  the  cataract  of  Montniorenci,  tlie  distant  range  of  tlie 
I^urentian  Mountains,  the  warlike  mck  with  its  diadera  of 
walls  and  towers,  the  roofs  of  the  Lower  Town  clustering 
on  the  strand  beneath,  the  Chateau  St.  Ixmis  perched  at  the 
brink  of  (he  cliff,  and  over  it  the  white  l)anner,  spangled  with 
fleurs-de-lis,  flaunting  defiance  in  the  clear  autumnal  air. 
rerliap=,  as  he  gazed,  a  suspicion  seized  him  that  the  task  he 
had  undertaken  was  less  ca.sy  than  he  had  thought ;  but  he 
had  conquered  once  by  a  simple  summons  to  surrender,  and 
he  resolv'id  to  try  its  virtue  again. 

The  fleet  anchored  a  little  below  Quebec;  and  towards  ten 
f)'clock  tlie  JVench  saw  a  boat  i)ut  out  from  tlie  admi-nl's 
ship,  bearing  a  Hag  of  truce.  Ftmr  canoes  went  from  the 
Lower  Town,  and  met  it  midwpy.  It  brought  a  subaltern 
officer,  who  announced  himself  as  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from 
Sir  Wdliam  I'hips  to  the;  French  commander.  He  was  taken 
into  one  of  the  canoes  and  ;taddled  to  (he  (juay,  after  being 
completely  blindfolded  by  a  bandage  whicli  covered  half  his 

»  Count  Fronterwc   ami  New  Franrp  •iiiiier  Louis  XIV.,  Ch.  .XIII. 

*  Hi-  liad  with  liiiii  tliirty-four  ships  m  all.  Four  were  large  shijis,  scvfral 
others  were  of  considorablf  si/., .  and  the  rest  were  brigs,  s<'liooiiers,  and  lishing- 
craft,  all  thronged  with  men. 


i«9o]  Expedition  against  Quebec  235 

face.     I*r«5vost  receivetl  liira  as  he  landed,  and  ordered  two 
sergeants  to  lake  hira  by  the  anus  and  leail  him  to  t't^e  gov- 
ernor.     His  ])rii<rress  was  neither  raj»id   uor  direct.     Tlwy 
drew  liiai  hi* her  and  thither,  delighting  to  make  liim  ciara- 
her  in  the  dark  over  every  possii  ]e  oUstruction  ;  while  a  noisy 
(iiiwi!  hiistlei!  liini.  and  laughing  wninen  called  him  Oolin 
Maillard,  the  name  of  tlie  chief  jdayer  in  blindman's  b^. 
Amid  a  j»rodigious  hubbub,  intended  to  bewilder  him  and  im- 
jtress  liim  with  a  sense  of  immense  warlike  )>rc]>aration,  they 
dragged  liim  over  the  lliree  barricades  of  MiMintain  Street, 
and  brought  liim  at  last  into  a  large  room  of  the  cliftUsau. 
Here  they  to<'k  the  bandage  from  liis  eyes.     ]ft>  .stood  for  a 
moment  with  an  air  of  astonishment  and  some  confusion. 
The  governor  stoinl  before  him,  haughty  and  .stern,  surroundetl 
by  French  and  Canadian  oth<;ers,  Maricourt,  Sainti'-Hc^l^ne, 
Longueuil,   Villebon,    Valrenne,  liienviile,  and   many  more, 
liedecked  with  gold  hice  mui  silver  lace,  perukes  and  powder, 
plumes  and  ribbons,  and  all  the  martial  foi)pery  in  wliich 
they  took  delight,  and  regarding  the  envoy  with  keen.  <l«fiant 
eyes.     After  a  moment,  he  recovered  his  breath  anci  liis  com- 
posure, saluteil  Frontenac,  and,  expressing  a  wi}*h  that  the 
duty  assigned  him  had  been  of  a   more  agreeable    nature, 
handed  him  the  letter  of  I'hips.      Frontenac  gave  it  to  an 
interpreter,  who  read  it  aloud  in  French  that  all  might  hear. 
It  ran  thus  :  — 

"  Sir  milium.  Phip.t,  K)ii;/hf,  Gnipni!  ■mil  Commandrr  in-ehief 
in  a»f/  orer  th,nr  M'ljrsfir/  Forr,;i  of  N,',f'  Enijlnnd,  hij  Sr,i 
nml  Lund,  to  Cninif  F.ontnuu;  Lii>uteu<int-(i,-nt'rnl  and 
(i'rvpmmir  far  flu'  Fnnrh  Kimj  nt  Caviuhi  ;  or,  in  liis 
(iliAi'tu-p,  to  hin  Dfinitif,  or  him  or  tlirtn  in  chief  command 
at  Qu check  : 

••  Tiie  w.ir  botwnpn  the  crowns  of  England  and  France  doth  not 
only  siifficif  ntly  warrant,  but  tiie  destruction  made  by  the  French 


ar 


236  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1690 

ami  Indians,  inder  your  commanJ  and  encoiiraf/nnient,  upon  tlie 
persons  and  estates  of  thoir  Majesties'  subjects  of  New  England, 
williout  provocation  on  their  jmrt,  hatii  put  tlicm  under  the  neces- 
sity of  this  expedition  for  their  own  security  and  satis  :^>.Mon. 
Ami  although  the  cruelties  and  Itarharities  used  against  them  hv 
the  French  and  Indians  might,  upon  the  present  opportunity, 
I)rompt  unto  a  severe  revenge,  yet,  bt.-ijjg  desirous  to  avoid  all  in- 
humane and  unciiristian-like  actiuna,  and  to  prevent  sheddiu"  of 
blood  as  much  aa  may  be, 

"  I,  the  aforesaid  William  I'liips,  Knight,  do  hereby,  in  the 
name  and  in  the  behalf  of  their  most  excellent  Majesties,  William 
and  Mary,  King  and  Queen  of  En;,'la!vl,  Scotland,  France,  and 
Ireland,  Defenders  of  the  Fuitli,  and  by  onler  of  their  .'o.iil  Maj- 
esties' government  of  tlie  Massachuset-colony  in  Now  England, 
demand  a  present  surrender  of  your  forts  and  oastles.  und.mol- 
ishcd,  and  the  king's  and  otiicr  stores,  unimbez/led,  with  a 
seasonable  delivery  of  all  cajitives;  together  with  a  surrender 
of  all  your  persons  and  estates  to  my  dispose:  upon  the  lioiiig 
whereof,  you  may  expect  mercy  from  me,  as  a  Christian,  accord- 
ing to  what  shall  be  found  for  their  Majesties'  service  and  the 
sidijects'  security.  Which,  if  you  refuse  forthwith  to  do,  1  am 
cone  provided,  and  am  resolved,  by  tli*-  help  of  God,  in  whom  1 
trust.,  by  force  of  arms  to  revenge  all  wrongs  and  injuries  offered, 
and  bring  you  under  subjection  to  the  Crown  of  England,  and,  when 
too  late,  make  you  wish  yoii  liad  accepted  of  the  favour  tendereil. 

"  Your  answer  positive  in  an  hour  returned  by  your  own  trum- 
pet, with  the  return  of  mine,  is  required  upon  the  peril  that  will 
ensue."  * 

When  the  reading  was  fini.sju'd,  (he  P^nglishnian  imllcd 
his  watch  from  his  ]X)cket,  and  handed  it  to  the  governor. 

•  See  the  Letter  in  M:iftier,  MarjnaUa,  I.  18t>.  Tlie  Fmicli  kejit  a  copy  of 
it,  whi  h,  with  an  accurate  translntion,  in  parallel  cohinins,  was  sent  to  Ver- 
sailles, an<l  i.s  .still  iceserved  in  the  Archives  de  la  Marine.  The  text  answers 
lierfeetly  tj  that  given  by  Mather. 


ib9o]  Expedition  against  Quebec  237 

Fmiitenac  coiiUl  not,  <>r  pretended  that  he  ct)uhl  not,  see  the 
hour.  The  mcsj-enger  thereuiKiu  told  him  that  it  was  ten 
o'doi'k,  and  tlial  he  must  liave  liis  answer  before  eleven.  A 
geneml  cry  of  indignation  arose;  and  Valrenne  called  out 
that  I'hips  was  nothing  but  a  ])irate,  and  that  his  man  oiiglit 
to  be  hanged.  Fronteuac  contained  himself  for  a  moment, 
and  then  said  t(j  the  envoy  :  — 

"  I  will  not  kec})  you  waiting  so  long.  Tell  your  general 
that  I  do  not  recogni/e  King  William;  and  that  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  who  so  styles  himself,  is  a  usurper,  who  has  vio- 
lateil  the  most  .sacred  laws  of  bLMul  in  atlemjiting  to  dethrone 
his  father-in-law.  I  know  no  King  of  England  but  King 
Jarae.s.  Your  general  ought  not  to  l<e  surjictsfd  at  the  hos- 
tilities which  he  says  tliat  the  French  have  carried  on  in  the 
colony  of  Massachusetts;  for,  as  the  king  my  master  ha.s 
taken  the  King  of  England  under  his  jirotection,  and  is  aiwrnt 
to  re])lace  him  on  his  throne  by  force  of  arms,  he  might  liave 
exjKHited  that  his  Majesty  would  order  me  to  make  war  on  a 
jHJople  who  have  rebelled  against  their  lawful  prince."  Then, 
turning  with  a  smile  to  the  otlicers  about  him :  "  Even  if 
your  general  offered  me  conditions  a  little  more  gracious, 
and  if  1  had  a  mind  to  accept  them,  does  he  sup]»ose  that 
these  brave  gentlemen  would  give  their  con.sent,  and  advi.se 
me  to  trust  a  man  who  broke  his  agreement  with  the  gov- 
ernor of  Port  Iioyal,  or  a  rebel  who  has  failed  in  his  duty  to 
his  king,  and  forgotten  all  the  favors  he  had  received  from 
him,  to  follow  a  ])rince  who  j)retends  to  be  the  liberator  of 
F^ngland  and  the  defender  of  the  faith,  and  yet  destroys  the 
laws  and  ])rivileges  of  the  kingdom  and  overthrows  its  re- 
ligion '(  The  divine  justice  which  your  general  invokes  in 
his  letter  will  not  fail  to  punish  such  acts  severely." 

The  messenger  seemed  astonished  and  startled;   but  he 


ii 


238  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1690 

l»ieseiitly  asked  if  the  governor  would  give  him  his  answer 
in  writing. 

"  No,"  returned  Frontenac,  "  I  will  answer  your  general 
only  by  the  luoutiis  of  my  cannon,  that  lie  may  learn  that  a 
man  like  me  is  not  to  be  sunnuoned  after  this  fashion.  Let 
him  do  hi.''  best,  and  I  will  do  mine;"  and  he  dismi.ssed  the 
Knglishman  abrui>tly.  He  was  again  blindfolded,  led  over 
the  barrii-ades,  and  sent  back  to  the  Heet  by  the  boat  that 
brought  liim. 

rhi])s  had  often  given  proof  of  personal  courage,  but  for 
the  past  three    weeks  liis    conduct    seems    that   of  a    man 
conscious  that  he  is  charged  with  a  work  too  large  for  his 
capacity.     He  had  sjient  a  good  part  of  his  time  in  hokling 
councils  of  war;   and  now,  when  he  heard  the  answer  of 
Frontenac,  lie  called  another  to  consider  what  should   be 
done.     A  plan  of  attack  was  at  length  arranged.     The  mili- 
tia were  to  be  landed  on  the  .shore  of  TJeauport,  which  was 
just   below  t,)uebec,  though   separated   from   it   by  the  St. 
diaries.     They  were  tiien  to  cross  this  river  by  a  ford  prac- 
ticable at  low  water,  climb  the  heights  of  St.  f  Jenevii?ve,  and 
gain  tlie  rear  of  the  town.     The  small  ves.sels  of  the  Heet 
were  to  aid  the  movement  by  ascending  the  St.  Charles  as 
far  as  the  ford,  holding  the  enemy  in  check  by  their  tire,  and 
carrying  provisions,  ammunition,  and  intrenching  tools,  for 
tlic  use  of  the  land  troojis.     \Mien  these  had  crossed  and 
were  ready  to  attack  Quebec  in  the  rear,  Phips  was  to  can- 
nonade it  in  front,  and  land  two  hundred  men  imder  cover 
of  liis  guns  to  effect  a  diversion  by  storming  the  barricades. 
Some  of  the  I'rencli  prisoners,  from  whom  their  captors  a\)- 
pear  to  have  received  a  great  deal  of  correct  infi)rmation,  told 
the  admiral  thaf   there  was  a  place  a  mile  or  two  above  the 
town  where  the  heiglits  mi^ht  be  scaled  and  the  rear  of  the 


icgo]  Expedition  against  Quebec  239 

ftutitications  reached  from  a  direction  opposite  to  that  pro- 
lH)sed.  This  was  precisely  the  movement  by  which  Wolfe 
ul'terwards  gaineil  liis  memorable  victory ;  but  I'hijra  chose  to 
al)ide  by  tlie  orijjinal  jtlau. 

>v''hile  the  plan  was  debated,  tlie  opportunity  for  accom- 
plishing it  ebbed  away.  It  was  still  early  when  the  mes- 
senger returned  from  (Quebec  ;  but,  before  I'hips  was  ready 
to  act,  the  day  was  on  the  wane  and  the  tide  was  against 
him.  He  lay  quietly  at  his  moorings  wlien,  in  the  evening 
a  great  shouting,  nungled  with  tlie  roll  of  drums  and  tlie 
sound  of  fifes,  was  heanl  from  the  I'pper  Town.  The  Kr>g- 
lish  otlicers  asked  their  prisoner,  iJranville,  what  it  mwiaL 
"  Ma  foi,  Messieurs,"  he  replied, "  you  have  lost  the  ganm. 
It  is  the  governor  of  Montreal  with  the  ]»eople  from  the 
country  above.  There  is  nothing  for  you  now  but  lo  pack 
and  go  home."  In  fact,  Calliferes  had  arrived  with  seven  or 
eight  hunched  men,  many  of  them  regulars.  With  these  were 
bands  of  roureurs  de  hois  and  other  young  Can,",  lians,  all  full 
of  figlit,  singing  and  wl\oo])ing  witli  martial  glee  as  •!  ey 
passed  the  western  gate  and  troo])ed  down  St.  Louis  Street. 


[An  interval  of  a  ilay  elapsed  with  no  im])ortant  incident 
to  record.  Then  on  the  following  day,  at  about  noon  of 
Weihiosday,  a  great  nundier  of  l)oats  was  seen  t<j  ]»ull  out 
from  the  Heet  and  pull  for  the  Beau]K)rt  shore.  The  men, 
some  (Iiirteen  hundred  in  number,  were  under  the  command 
of  Major  Walley.  Frontenac,  realizing  the  meaning  of  this 
movement,  sent  three  hunchod  sharpshooters  umler  Sa'nte- 
7fel^ne  to  Imld  them  in  check,  .Mid  more  troojis  full' wed  in 
siippdrt.  Thrn,ioh,,iiI  iheafternonn  a  desultorv  ruuniiiir  liglit 
was  kept  up.,  and  in  the  evening  Walley  drew  his  men  to- 
gether, and  advai).  (mI  inwards  the  St.  Charles,  in  order  to 


240  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1690 

meet  the  vessels  which  were  to  aid  him  in  j^assing  the  ford. 
Here  he  posted  sentinels  and  encami)ed  for  the  niyht. —  El>.] 

Meanwhile,  I'hips,  whose  fault  hitherto  had  not  heen  un 
excess  of  promptitude,  grew  impatient,  and  made  a  i»rema- 
ture  movement  inconsistent  with  the  preconcerted  plan. 

He  left  his  moorings,  anchored  his  largest  ships  before 
the  town,  and  prepared  to  cannonaile  it ;  but  the  tiery  vetcian 
who  watched  him  from  the  Ciiuteau  8t.  Louis,  anticipated 
him,  and  gave  him  the  Hrst  shot.  I'hips  replied  furiously, 
opening  tire  with  every  gun  that  he  could  bring  to  bear ; 
while  the  rock  paid  him  back  iii  kind,  and  belched  tianie  and 
smoke  from  all  its  batteries.' 

[All  day  the  cainionade  continued,  and  the  next  day  it  was 
resumed  with  vigor.  The  precision  of  the  New  England 
gunners,  or  the  ijuality  of  their  ammunition  was  certainly 
defective,  for  their  tire  fell  hannlessly  within  the  town,  or 
spent  itself  upon  the  dill'.  The  ships,  on  the  other  hand, 
sull'ered  severely  and  gave  over  the  hopeless  conflict.  —  Ei».] 

Phips  had  thrown  away  nearly  all  his  ammunition  in  this 
futile  and  disastrous  attack,  which  should  have  been  deferred 
till  the  moment  when  Walley,  with  his  land  force,  had 
gained  the  rear  of  the  town.  The  latter  lay  h\  his  camp,  his 
men  wet,  shivering  with  cold,  famished,  and  sickening  with 
the  small-pox.  Food,  and  all  other  suii])lies,  were  to  have 
been  brought  him  by  the  small  vessels,  which  should  have 
entered  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Charles  and  aideil  him  to  cross 
it.  liut  he  waited  for  them  in  vain.  Every  vessel  that  car- 
ried a  gun  had  busied  itself  in  cannonading,  and  the  rest  did 
not  move.2 

'  (imnt  FroiitPimc  and  Npw  France  undiT  Louis  XIV.,  Ch.  XIII. 
*  From  the  siiino. 


1690) 


Expedition  against  Quebec 


241 


[On  Friday,  tlu'iefuiv,  tics j 'airing  of  success,  WulU-y  went 
oil  board  the  adiuirars  sliip  to  explain  the  situati«)iu 
Throughout  that  day  and  ti>e  next,  fretiuent  Hkirniishcs  tiMik 
jihicc  about  the  ford  of  the  river,  and  the  New  England  men 
nobly  sustained  their  reitutation  for  courage.  ]>ut  in  their 
isolation  nothing  couhl  be  accomi)liahed,  so  on  the  night  of 
Saturday  they  fell  back  to  the  landing  jwiut  and  rejoined 
the  fleet.  —  Kd.] 


Quebec  remained  in  agitation  and  alarm  till  Tuesday,' 
wlien  I'hips  weighed  anchor  and  disai»i>eared,  with  all  liis 
fleet,  behind  the  Island  of  (hleans.  He  did  not  go  far,  as 
indeed  he  could  not,  but  stopped  four  leagues  below  to 
mend  rigging,  fortify  wounded  masts,  and  stop  shot-holes. 
Subercase  had  gone  with  a  detachment  to  watch  the  retiring 
enemy ;  and  Phips  was  repeatedly  seen  among  his  men,  on  a 
scaffold  at  the  side  of  his  ship,  exercising  his  old  trade  of 
carpenter.  Tliis  delay  was  turned  to  good  use  by  an  exchange 
of  prisoners. 

The  heretics  were  gone,  and  Quebec  breathed  freely  again. 
Her  escape  had  been  a  narrow  one ;  not  that  three  thousand 
men,  in  part  regular  troops,  defending  one  of  the  strongest 
positit)ns  on  the  continent,  and  commanded  h)y  Frontenae, 
could  not  defy  the  attacks  of  two  thousand  raw  fishermen 
and  farmers,  led  by  an  ignorant  civilian,  but  the  numbers 
which  were  a  source  of  strength  were  at  the  same  time  a 
source  of  weakness.  Nearly  all  the  adult  males  of  Canada 
were  gathered  at  Quebec,  and  there  was  imminent  danger  of 
starvation.  Cattle  from  the  neighboring  parishes  had  been 
hastily  driven  into  the  town  ;  but  there  was  little  other  pro- 
vision, and  before  Phips  retreated  the  pinch  of  famine  had 

1  Count  Front«nacanJ  New  France  under  Louis  XIV.,  Ch.  XIII. 

16 


.■>, 


242  Thr  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (1690 

Ix^'iin.  llmi  he  iniiM'  a  \v»vk  cailuT  or  sUyed  a  wt-ck  later, 
tlie  Krcnch  lIit'mHclv.-.s  l..lifV(Ml  that  (.hiphcr  uuul.l  have 
fiiUoii,  ill  :he  iMu-  case  fur  want  (.f  iiu-n,  an  11  the  other  for 
want  tif  fiMiil. 

rhips  roturii.d  .iv.siialh'ii  t..  r.(.,sinn  hue  in  X<.veniher; 
aii.l  one  hy  one  the  rest  of  the  fh«et  eaiue  straj,'j,'linp  afi,.r 
him, battered  am'  \vc;ilhM,l.t.aten.  Some  did  not  apin-ar  till 
Fehniary,  and  tliree  or  funr  newr  came  at  all.  The  autumn 
and  early  winter  were  nnu.sually  stormy.  Captain  ilain.sford, 
with  sixty  men,  was  wrecked  on  the  Island  of  Autico.sti,  where 
more  than  half  their  number  died  of  eold  and  misery.  In 
the  other  vessels,  some  were  drowned,  some  frost-bitten,  and 
above  two  liundred  killed  by  small-jiox  and  fever. 

At   Boston,  all    was   dismay   and   gloom.      The    Puritan 
lx)wed  before  "this  awful  frown  of  (Jod,"  ;n' 1  searched  his 
conscience  for  the  sin  that  had  brought  upon  him  so  stern  a 
chastisement.     Massachusetts,  already  impoverished,   found 
herself  in  extremity.     The  war,  instead  of  paying  for  itself, 
had  burdened  her  with  an  additi(.nal  debt  of  fifty  thousand 
pounds.     The  sailors  and  soldiers  were  clamorous  for  their 
pay;  and,  to  satisfy  them,  the  colony  was  forced  for  the  first 
time  in  its  history  to  issue  a  pai)er  currency.     It  was  made 
receivable  at  a  i>remium  for  all  public  del)ts,  and  was  also 
fortified  by  a  jnovision  for  its  early  rpdemi)tion  by  taxation  ; 
a  pr.)vision  which  was  carried  into  effect  in  spite  of  poverty 
and  distress. 


if,.  ^ 


i69a| 


The  Her*,  ine  of  Verchcres 


243 


TIFK    IlKIMtlXK  (»F    VKIMIIKHKS » 

Many  iiu'iiU'iUs  of  this  troubled  time  are  preserved,  J»ut  none 
of  tliern  are  ho  well  worth  the  rerord  as  the  defence  of  the 
fort  at  Ver(•h^re3  by  the  yoiuij?  daughter  of  the  seignior, 
^faiiy  years  later,  the  Mar([uis  de  lieauharnais,  governor  of 
Canada,  caust'd  the  story  to  he  written  <lown  fmni  the  recital 
of  the  heroine  herself.  Verchferes  was  on  the  south  shoie  of 
the  St.  TAwreiu-e,  about  twenty  miles  below  Montreal.  A 
strong  blockhouse  stcMnl  outside  the  fort,  and  was  connected 
with  it  by  a  covered  way.  On  the  morning  of  the  twenty- 
second  of  October,  the  inhabitants  were  at  work  in  the  fields, 
and  nobody  was  left  in  the  place  but  two  soldiers,  two  boys, 
an  <dd  man  of  eighty,  and  a  nund)er  of  women  and  children. 
The  seignior,  formerly  an  othcer  of  tlie  regiment  of  Carignan, 
was  on  duty  at  Quebec  ;  his  wife  was  at  Montreal ;  and  their 
daughter  Madeleine,  fourteen  yeai-s  of  age,  was  at  the  land- 
ing-place not  far  from  the  gate  of  the  fort,  with  a  hired  man 
named  Lavitdette.  Suddeidy  she  heard  firing  from  the 
direction  where  the  settlers  were  at  work,  and  an  instant 
after  I^vi(dette  cried  out, "  Run,  Mademoiselle,  run !  here 
come  the  Iroquois ! "  She  turned  and  saw  forty  or  fifty  of 
them  at  the  distance  of  a  pistol-shot.  "  I  ran  for  the  fort, 
commending  myself  to  the  Holy  Virgin.  The  Iroquois  who 
chased  after  me,  seeing  that  they  could  not  catch  me  alive 
before  I  reached  the  gate,  stai)ped  and  fired  at  me.     The 

1  Count  Froiitcnao  and  NfW  France  unuer  Louis  XIV.,  Ch.  XIV. 


i 


iMm 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

iANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No,  2) 


2.5 
|Z2 

2.0 

1.8 


^  APPUBn  INA^GE     Inc 

^^.  :6-3   East    MQ.r    STeet 

S*—  Bo'-heste'.    Ne»   vork        14609       USA 

J^  (716)    482   -  0300  -  Phone 

^S  (716)   288  -  5989  -  Fox 


ii| 


244  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1693 

bullets  whistled  about  luy  ears,  and  made  the  time  seem  very 
litng.     As  soon  as  I  was  near  enough  to  be  heard,  I  cried  out, 
To  arms!  to  nrm,s  !  hoj)ing  that  somebody  would  come  out 
and  help  me  ;  but  it  was  of  no  use.     The  two  soldiers  in  the 
fort  were  so  scared  tliat  they  had  hidden  in  the  blockhouse. 
At  the  gate,  I  found  two  women  crying  for  their  husbands, 
who  had  just  been  killed.     I  made  them  go  in,  and  then 
shut  the  gate.     1  next  thought  what  I  could  do  to  save  my- 
self and  the  few  people  with  me.     I  went  to  inspect  the  fort, 
and  found  that  several  palisades  had  fallen  down,  and  left 
openings  liy  which  the  enemy  could  easily  get  in.     I  ordered 
them  to  1)6  set  up  again,  and  lielped  to  carry  them  myself. 
When  the  breaches  were  stopped,  I  went  to  the  blockhouse 
where  the  ammunition  is  kept,  and  here  I  found  the  two 
soldiers,  one  hiding  in  a  corner,  and  the  other  with  a  lighted 
match  in  his  hand.     '  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that 
match  ? '  I  asked.     He   answered,  « Light  the   powder,  and 
blow  us  all  up.'     '  You  are  a  miserable  coward,'  said  I,  '  go 
out  of  this  place.'     I  spoke  so  resolutely  that  he  obeyed.     I 
then  threw  off  my  bonnet ;  and,  after  putting  on  a  hat  and 
taking  a  gun,  I  said  to  my  two  brothers  :  '  Let  us  fight  to  the 
death.     We  are   fighting  for  our  country  and  our  religion. 
I{ememl)er  that  our  father  has  taught  you  that  gentlemen  are 
born  to  shed  their  blood  for  the  service  of  God  and  the 


I 


The  boys,  who  were  twelve  and  ten  years  old,  aided  by  the 
soldiers,  whom  her  words  had  inspired  with  some  little 
courage,  l)egan  to  tire  from  the  loopholes  upon  the  Iroquois, 
who,  ignorant  of  the  weakness  of  the  garrison,  showed  their 
usual  reluctance  to  attack  a  fortified  place,  and  occupied 
themselves  with  chasing  and  butchering  tlie  people  in  the 
neighboring  fields.     Madeleine  ordered  a  cannon  to  be  fired, 


Mi 


1692] 


The  Heroine  of  Vercheres 


245 


I>artly  to  deter  tlie  enemy  from  an  assault,  and  partly  to 
warn  some  of  the  soldiers,  who  were  liunting  at  a  distance. 
The  women  and  children  in  the  fort  cried  and  screamed  with- 
out ceasing.  Hhe  ordered  them  to  stop,  lest  their  terror 
sliould  encourage  the  Indians.  A  canoe  was  presently  seen 
approaching  the  landing-t>lace.  It  was  a  settler  named  Fon- 
taine, trying  to  reach  the  fort  with  his  family.  The  Iroquois 
were  still  near ;  and  Madeleine  feared  that  the  new-comers 
would  be  killed,  if  something  were  not  done  to  aid  them. 
She  appealed  to  the  soldiers,  but  their  courage  was  not  e(pial 
to  the  attempt ;  on  which,  as  she  declares,  after  leaving  Lavi- 
olette  to  keep  watch  at  the  gate,  she  herself  went  alone  to 
the  landing-place.  "  I  thought  that  the  savages  would  sup- 
pt)se  it  to  be  a  ruse  to  draw  them  towards  the  fort,  in  order  to 
make  a  sortie  uix)n  them.  They  did  suppose  so,  and  thus  I 
was  able  to  save  the  Fontaine  family.  When  they  were  all 
landed,  I  made  them  marcli  before  me  in  full  sight  of  the 
enemy.  We  put  so  bold  a  face  on  it,  that  they  thoupht  they 
liad  more  to  fear  tlian  we.  Strengthened  by  this  ■  jforce- 
nient,  I  ordered  that  the  enemy  should  be  fired  on  whenever 
they  showed  tliemselves.  After  sunset,  a  violent  northeast 
wind  began  to  blow,  accompanied  with  snow  and  hail,  which 
told  us  that  we  should  have  a  tenible  night.  The  Iroquois 
were  all  this  time  lurking  about  us ;  and  I  judged  by  their 
movements  that,  instead  of  being  deterred  by  the  storm, 
they  would  climb  into  the  fort  under  cover  of  the  darkness. 
I  assembled  all  my  tnx)ps,  tliat  is  to  say,  six  pcsons,  and 
spoke  to  them  thus :  '  God  has  saved  us  to-day  from  the 
hands  of  our  enemies,  but  we  must  take  care  not  to  fall  into 
their  snares  to-night.  As  for  me,  I  want  you  to  see  that  I 
am  not  afraid.  I  will  take  charge  of  the  fort  with  an  old 
man  of  eighty  and  another  who  never  fired  a  g\m  ;  and  you, 


hi. 


I 


1 


246  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [169a 

Pierre  Fontaine,  with  La  IJunti'  and  Gaeliet  (our  two  soldiers') 

■ » 
will  go  to  the  hl.K'khouse  with  the  women   and  children, 

because  that  is  the  strongest  idace ;  and,  if  1  am  taken,  don't 
surrender,  even  if  I  am  cut  to  pieces  and  burned  before  your 
eyes.  The  enemy  cannot  liurt  you  in  the  blockhouse,  if  you 
make  tlie  least  show  of  light.'  T  placed  my  young  brothers 
on  two  of  the  bastions,  the  old  man  on  the  third,  and  I  dx.k 
the  fourth;  and  all  night,  in  spite  of  wind,  snow,  and  hail, 
the  cries  of  'All's  well '  were  kept  up  from  the  blockhouse 
to  the  fort,  and  from  the  fort  to  the  blockhouse.  One  would 
have  thought  that  the  place  was  full  of  soldiers.  Tlie  Iroquois 
thought  so,  and  were  completely  deceived,  as  they  confessed 
afterwards  to  Monsieur  de  Callieres,  whom  they  told  that 
they  had  held  a  council  to  make  a  plan  for  capturing  tlie 
fort  in  the  night  but  had  done  nothing  because  such  a  con- 
stant watch  was  kept. 

"  About  one  in  the  morning,  the  sentinel  on  the  bastion 
by  the  gate  called  out, '  Mademoiselle,  I  hear  something.'  I 
went  to  him  to  find  what  it  was ;  and  by  the  help  of  the 
snow,  which  covered  the  ground,  I  could  see  through  the 
darkness  a  number  of  cattle,  the  miserable  remnant  that 
the  Iroquois  had  left  us.  The  others  wanted  to  open  the 
gate  and  let  them  in,  but  I  answered :  '  God  forbid.  You 
don't  know  all  the  tricks  of  the  savages.  They  are  no 
doubt  foUowing  the  cattle,  covered  with  skins  of  beasts,  so 
as  to  get  into  the  fort,  if  we  are  simple  enough  to  open  the 
gate  for  them.'  Nevertheless,  after  taking  every  precaution, 
I  thought  that  we  might  open  it  without  risk.  I  made  my 
two  brothers  stand  reaily  with  their  gims  cocked  in  case  of 
surprise,  and  so  we  let  in  the  cattle. 

"  At  last,  the  daylight  came  again ;  and,  as  the  darkness 
disappeared,  our  anxieties    seemed    to  disappear  with  it. 


1692]  The  Heroine  of  Vercheres  247 

Everybody  took  courage  except  Mademoiselle  Marguerite, 
wife  of  the  Sieur  Fontaine,  who  being  extremely  timid,  as 
all  Parisian  women  ar  .  ^sked  her  husband  to  carrj-  her  to 
another  fort.  ...  He  ^'tiid,  '  I  will  never  abandon  this  fort 
while  Mademoiselle  Madelon  (^Madeleine)  is  here.'  I  an- 
swered him  that  I  would  never  abandon  it ;  that  I  would 
rather  die  than  j^ive  it  up  to  tlie  enemy ;  and  that  it  was  of 
the  greatest  importance  that  they  should  never  get  possession 
of  any  French  Tort,  because,  if  they  got  one,  they  would  think 
they  could  get  others,  and  would  grow  more  bold  and  pre- 
sumptuous than  ever.  I  may  say  with  truth  that  I  did  not 
eat  or  sleep  for  twice  twenty-four  hours.  I  did  not  go 
once  into  my  father's  hr-ise,  but  kept  always  on  the  bastion, 
or  went  to  the  blockhouse  to  see  how  the  people  there  were 
behaving.  I  always  kept  a  cheerful  and  smiling  face,  and 
encouraged  my  little  company  with  the  hope  of  speedy 
succor. 

"  We  were  a  week  in  constant  alarm,  with  the  enemy 
always  about  us.  At  last  Monsieur  de  la  Monnerie,  a 
lieutenant  sent  by  Monsieur  de  Calli5res,  arrived  in  the  night 
with  forty  men.  As  he  did  not  know  whether  the  fort  was 
taken  or  not,  he  approached  as  silently  as  possible.  One  of 
our  sentinels,  hearing  a  slight  sound,  cried, '  Qui  vive  ? '  I 
was  at  the  time  dozing,  with  my  head  on  a  table  and  my 
gun  lying  across  my  arms.  The  sentinel  told  me  that  he 
heard  a  voice  from  the  river.  I  went  up  at  once  to  the  bas- 
tion to  see  whether  it  was  Indians  or  Frenchmen.  I  asked, 
•  Who  are  you  ? '  One  of  them  answered, '  We  are  French- 
men :  it  is  La  Monnerie,  who  comes  to  bring  you  help.'  I 
caused  the  gate  to  be  opened,  placed  a  sentinel  there,  and 
went  down  to  the  river  to  meet  them.  As  soon  as  I  saw- 
Monsieur  de   la  Monnerie,  I  saluted  him,  and  said, '  Mon- 


ii 


248  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [169a 

>sieur,  I  surreiulor  my  arms  to  you.'  ]Ie  aiiswen-d  gallaiUly, 
'  Mailemoiselle,  they  are  in  good  hands.'  'Jletter  than  you 
think,'  I  returned.  He  insj)ec'ted  the  fort,  and  found  every- 
thing in  order,  and  a  sentinel  on  eaehhastion.  '  It  is  time  to 
reheve  them,  Monsieur,'  said  I :  '  we  have  not  been  off  our 
bastions  for  a  week.' " 

A  band  of  converts  from  the  Saut  St.  Louis  arrived  soon 
after,  foUowed  the  trail  of  their  lieathen  countrymen,  over- 
tt)ok  them  on  Lake  Champlain,and  recovered  twenty  or  more 
French  prisoners.  Madeleuie  de  Vercliferes  was  not  tlie  only 
heroine  of  her  family.  Her  fatlier's  foit  was  the  Castle  Dan- 
gerous of  Canada;  and  it  was  but  two  years  before  that 
her  mother,  left  with  three  or  four  armed  men,  and  beset 
by  the  Iroquois,  threw  herself  with  her  followers  into  the 
blockhouse,  and  held  the  assailants  two  days  at  bay,  till  the 
Marquis  de  Crisasy  came  with  troops  to  her  relief. 


1692,  i693]       Frontenac  and  the  Iroquois 


249 


FKONTEXAC   AND   THE   IROQUOIS  1 


FuoM  the  moment  when  the  Canadians  found  a  chief  whtjm 
tliey  couM  trust,  and  the  linn  ohl  hand  of  Frontenac  grasped 
the  reins  of  their  destiny,  a 
spirit  of  hardihood  and  enerjfy 
grew  up  in  all  this  rugged 
p(jpulatiou;  and  iliey  faced 
their  stern  fortunes  with  a 
stubborn  daring  and  endurance 
that  merit  respect  and  admira- 
tion. 

Now,  as  in  all  their  former 
wars,  a  great  part  of  their  suf- 
fering was  due  to  the  Mohawks. 
The  Jesuits  liad  spared  no 
pains  to  convert  them,  thus 
changing  them  from  enemies 
to  friends ;  and  their  efforts 
had  so  far  succeeded  that  the 
mission  colony  of  Saut  St. 
Louis  contained  a  numerous 
population  of  Mohawk  Chris- 
tians.2  The  place  was  well  for- 
tified ;  and  troops  wf .  i  usually 

stationed  here,  partly  to  defend  the  converts  and  partly  to  en- 
sure their  fidelity.     They  had  sometimes  done  excellent  ser- 

1  Count  Frontenac  and  New  Franoe  under  Louis XIV.,  f'li.  XFV. 
*  This  iiiissioti  was  also  ualleJ  Cauglinawiig:i      Tlie  village  sti!!  exist-;,  at  tlie 
head  of  the  rajii<l  of  St.  Louis,  or  La  Chine. 


Count  Front' iiac 


♦  l 


I 


250  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1693 

vice  for  the  French ;  but  many  of  them  still  remembered  tlieir 
(»ld  homes  on  the  Mohawk,  and  their  old  ties  of  fellowship 
and  kindred.    Their  heathen  countrymen  were  jealous  of  their 
secession,  and  spared  no  pains  to  rei'lain;  tliem.     Sometimes 
they  tried  intrigue,  and  sometimes  lorce.     On  one  occasion, 
joined  by  the  ( )neida.s  and  Onondagas,  tliey  api)eared  before 
the    palisades   of  St.  Louis,   to   the  number  of   more  than 
four  hundred  warriors;    but.  finding  tiie  bastions   manned 
and  the  gates   slmt,  they  witlidrew  discomfited.     It  was  of 
great  importance  to  the  French  to  sunder  them  from  their 
lieathen  relatives  so   completely  tliat  reconciliation  would 
be  impossible,  and  it  was  largely  to  this  end  that  a  grand 
expedition  was  prepared  against  the  Mohawk  towns. 

All  the  mission  Indians  iii  the  colony  were  invited  to  join 
it,  the  Iroquois  of  the  Saut  and  Mountain,  Abenakis  from 
the  Chaudifere,  Hurons  from  Lorette,  and   Aiyonciuius  from 
Three  Kivers.     A  hundred  picked  soldiers  were  added,  and  a 
large  band  of  Cana.lians.     All  told,  they  mustered  six  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  men,  under  three  tried  leaders,  Mantet, 
Courtemanche,  and  I^  Xoue.    They  left  Chambly  at  the  end  of 
January,  and  pushed  southward  on  snow-shoes.  Their  way  was 
over  the  ice  of  Lake  Champlain,  for  more  than  a  century  the 
great  thorouglifare  of  war-parties.     They  bivouacked  iu  the 
forest  by  squads  of  twelve  or  more;  dug  away  the  snow  iu  a 
circle,  covered  the  bared  earth  with  a  bed  of  spruce  boughs, 
made  a  fire  in  the  middle,  and  smoked  their  pipes  around  it. 
Here  crouched  the  Christian  savage,  muffled  in  his  blanket, 
his  unwashed  face  still  smirched  with  soot  and  vermilion' 
relics  of  the  war-paint  he  had  worn  a  week  before  when  he' 
danced  the  war-dance  in  the  square  of  the  mission  village- 
and  here  sat  tlie  Canadians,  hooded  like  Capuchin  monks,' 
but  irrepressible  in  lo.p.acity,  as  the  blaze  of  the  camp-fire 


i693l  Frontenac  and  the  Iroquois  251 

glowed  (»n  their  liardy  visagf^s  and  fell  in  fainter  radiance  on 
the  rocks  and  pines  Iteliind  t.ieni. 

Sixteen   days   brought  them  to  the  two  lower  Mohawk 
towns.     A  young  Dutchman  wlio  had  heen  captured  three 
years  liefore  at  Schenectady,  and  wliom  the  Indians  of  the 
Saut  had  imimulently  brought  with  them,  ran  off  in  tlie 
night,  and  carried  the  alarm  to  the   English.     The  invaders 
liad  no  time  to  lose.     The  two  towns  were  a  (juarter  of  a 
league  apart.     They  surrounded  them  both  on  the  niglit  of 
the  sixteenth  of  February,  waited  in  silence  till  tlie  voices 
within  were  hu.shed,  and  then  captured  them  without  resi.st- 
ance,  as  nutst  of  the  uimates  were  ab.sent.     After  burning 
one  of  them,  and  leaving  the  prisoners  well  guarded  in  the 
other,  they  marched  eight  leagues  to  tlie  third  town,  readied 
it  at  evening,  and  hid  in  tlie  neigliboring  woods.     Through 
all  the  early  night,  they  lieard  the  whoops  and  songs  of  the 
warriors   within,  who   were  dancing  tlie  war-dance  for  an 
intended  exiiedition.     About  midnight,  all  was  still.     The 
Mohawks  had  posted  no  sentinels;  and  one  of  the  Frencli 
Indians,  .scaling  the  palisade,  o^jened  the  gate  to  his  com- 
rades.     There  was  a   sliort   but   bloody  fight.     Twenty  or 
thirty   Mohawks   were   killed,   and    nearly    three    hundred 
captured,  chiefly  women   and   children.     The  French  com- 
mandei-s  now  re(piired  their  allies,  the  mission  Indians,  to 
make  good  a  promise  which,  at  the  instance  of  Frontenac, 
had   been   exacted   from   them   by  the  governor   of   Mon- 
treal.    It  was  that  they  should  kill  all  their  male  captives, 
a  proceeding  which  would   have   averted  every  danger  of 
future   reconciliation   between   the    Christian   and   heatlien 
Mohawks.     The  converts  of  the  Saut  and  the  Mountain  had 
readily  given  the  pledge,  but  apparently  with  no  intention 
to  keep  it ;  at  least,  they  now  refused  to  do  so.     Remon- 


i 

I 


11: 


252  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  li«93 

strauce  was  useless  ;  antl,  after  buiniii{;  the  town,  the  French 
and  their  allies  bej^aii  their  retreat,  encumbered  by  a  hmg 
train  of  jirisoners.  They  marched  two  days,  when  they  were 
hailed  from  a  tlisiance  by  Moliawk  scouts,  who  ttud  them 
that  the  Kiir'lisVi  were  on  tlieir  traciv,  but  ihat  jieacc  had 
been  declared  in  Europe,  and  tliat  the  i>ursuers  did  not  mean 
to  fij^lit,  but  to  parley.  llereui»on  the  mission  Indians  in- 
sisted on  waiting  for  them,  and  no  exertion  of  the  French 
commanders  could  persuade  them  to  move.  Trees  were 
hewn  down,  and  a  fort  made  after  the  Iroiiuois  fashion,  by 
encircling  the  camp  with  a  high  and  dense  abatis  of  trunks 
and  bratiches.  Here  they  lay  two  days  more,  the  French 
disgusted  and  uneasy,  and  their  savage  allies  obstinate  and 
impracticable. 

Meanwhile,  Major  Peter  Schuyler  ^  was  following  their 
trail,  with  a  body  of  armed  settlers  hastily  mustered.  A 
troop  of  Oneidas  joined  him;  and  the  united  parties,  be- 
tween five  and  si.x  hundred  in  all,  at  length  appeared  before 
the  fortified  camp  of  the  French.  It  was  at  once  evident 
that  there  was  to  be  no  parley.  The  forest  rang  with  war- 
whoojis;  and  the  English  Indians,  unmanageable  as  those 
of  the  French,  set  at  work  to  entrench  themselves  with 
felled  trees.  The  French  ami  their  allies  sallied  to  dislodge 
them.  The  attack  was  lier'e,  and  the  resistance  ecjually  so. 
Hoth  sides  lost  groxmd  l)y  turns.  A  priest  of  the  mission 
of  the  jMt)untain,  named  Clay,  was  in  the  thick  of  the  light ; 
and,  when  he  saw  his  neophytes  nui,  he  threw  himself  be- 
fore them,  crying,  "  What  are  you  afraid  of  ?  "We  are  fight- 
ing -ith  infidels,  who  have  nothing  human  but  the  shape. 
Have  you  forgotten  that  the  Holy  Virgin  is  our  leader  and 

*  Major  Pi;tfr  Scliiiyler  was  the  Mayor  of  Albany.  In  1691  he  had  led  a 
successful  exi)edition  into  Canada.  —  El). 


«693]  Frontenac  and  the  Iroquois  253 

our  protector,  and  that  you  are  subjects  of  the  King  of 
France,  whose  name  makes  all  Europe  tremble  ? "  Three 
times  the  French  renewed  the  attack  in  vain;  tht-n  gave 
over  the  attempt,  and  lay  (juiet  behind  their  barricade  of 
trees.  So  also  did  their  oppuneiits.  Tht^  ninniiuff  waa  dark 
and  stormy,  and  the  driving  snow  that  lillod  tlie  air  made 
the  position  doubly  dreary.  The  Kiiglisli  were  starving. 
Tlu'ir  .slender  stock  of  provisions  hud  been  consumed  or 
shared  with  the  Indian.s,  who,  on  their  jiart,  did  not  want 
food,  having  res'urces  unknown  iu  their  wliitc  friends.  A 
group  of  them  squatted  about  a  Kie  invited  Scluiylcr  to  share 
their  broth;  but  his  appeiite  was  spoiled  when  lie  saw  a 
human  hand  ladled  out  of  the  kettle.  His  hosts  were 
breakfasting  on  a  dead  Frenchman, 

All  night  the  hostile  bands,  ensconced  behind  their  sylvan 
ramparts,  watched  each  other  in  silence.  In  the  morning,  an 
Indian  deserter  told  the  English  commander  that  the  French 
were  packing  their  baggage.  Schuyler  sent  to  reconnoitre, 
and  found  them  gone.  They  had  retreated  unseen  through 
the  snow-storm.  He  ordered  his  men  to  follow;  but,  as 
nil  -it  of  them  had  fast*^!  for  two  days,  they  refused  to  do 
P'-iilla  oxpected  con  ,0^  •;  provisions  should  arrive.  They 
waitt  ii  tl  J  next  morning,  when  the  convoy  appeared: 
live  bi-  ats  were  served  out  to  each  man,  and  the  pursuit 
bt'gau-  %  gror  eft' rts,  they  nearly  overtook  the  fugitives, 
who  -• '  '   them  word  that,  if  they  made  an  attack,  all 

the  pi  -  -hould  be  put  to  death.     <Jn  this,  Schuyler's 

Indian.  -ed  to  continue  the  chase.     The  French,  by  this 

time,  ha  -ached  the  Hudson,  where  to  their  dismay  they 
found  th<  e  breaking  up  and  drifting  down  the  stream. 
Happily  fo      hem,  a  large  sheet  of  it  had  become  wedged 


at  a  turn,  ij 


e  n\- 


aiid    formed  a  temporarj-  bridge,  by 


li 


254  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [ttoa 

which  they  crossed,  an'  then  pushed  on  to  I  \ke  George. 
Here  tlic  soft  and  melting  ice  would  not  bear  them ;  and 
they  were  forcod  to  make  their  way  along  the  shore,  over 
rocks  and  mountains,  through  sodilen  snow  and  matted 
thickets.  The  provisions,  of  which  they  had  made  a  d<5ix*)t 
on  Ijike  Champlain,  were  all  siM)iled.  They  boiled  mocca- 
sins for  fo(Kl,  and  scr.'!''cd  away  the  snow  to  find  hickory 
and  beech  nuts.  Several  died  of  famine,  and  many  »•. 
unable  to  move,  lay  helpless  by  the  lake ;  while  .  '- 
the  strongest  toiled  on  to  Montreal  to  tell  Calliferes  i  •  ...eir 
plight.  Men  and  fm^d  were  sent  them;  and  from  time  to 
time,  a.>  they  were  able,  they  journeyed  on  again,  straggling 
towards  their  homes,  singly  or  in  small  parties,  feeble, 
emaciated,  and  in  many  instances  with  health  irreparably 
broken. 

"  The  expedition,"  says  Frontenac,  "  was  a  glorious  suc- 
cess." However  glorious,  it  was  dearly  bought ;  and  a  few 
more  such  victories  would  be  ruin.  The  governor  presently 
achieved  a  success  more  solid  and  less  costly.  The  wavering 
mood  of  the  northwerlem  tribes,  al  vs  oscillating  between 
the  French  and  the  English,  bad  cc  id  him  incessant  anx- 
iety; and  he  had  lost  no  time  ia  using  the  defeat  of  Phips 
to  confirm  them  in  allianc  "^ith  Canada.  Courtemanche 
was  sent  up  the  ".  awa  to  rarrj- news  of  the  French  tri- 
umph, and  stimulate  the  savages  of  Michillimackinac  to 
lift  the  hatchet.  It  was  a  desperate  venture ;  for  the  river 
was  beset,  as  usual,  by  the  Irofpiois.  With  ten  followers, 
the  daring  partisan  ran  the  gauntlet  of  a  thousanil  dangers, 
and  safely  reached  his  destination ;  where  his  gifts  and  his 
liarangues,  joined  with  the  tidings  of  victory,  kindled  great 
excitement  among  the  Ottawas  and  Hurou.s.  The  indis- 
pensable but  most  ditiicult  task  remained :  that  of  opening 


J 


«6fl3]  Frontenac  and  the  Iroquois  255 

the  Ottawa  for  tlie  (U^irnt  of   tlit>  great  arcumulation  of 
beaver  skins,  wljich  hail  been  galhemii;  n  Mi<  lull  ma.  kin-'- 
for  three  years,  and   lor  the  want  ol  wl'        Canada  was 
bankrupt.     More  than  two  hundred  Frefichinen  were  known 
to  be  at   that  remote   post,  or  roaming   in  tlie  wilderness 
arourd  it ;  and  Frontenac  resolved  on  an  attempt  to  muster 
them  together,  and  employ  their  united  force  to  protect  the 
Indians   and   the  traders   in   bringing   down    this  mass  of 
furs  to  Montreal.     A  messenger,  strongly  escorted,  wa.s  .sent 
with  orders  to  this  effect,  and  succeeded  in  reaching  !^Iichil- 
limackinac.tliough  there  was  a  batt'a  on  the  way,  in  which 
the  officer  commanding  the  escort  was  killed.    Frontenac 
anxiously  waited  the  issue,  when  after  a  long  delay  the  tid- 
ings reached  him  of  complete  success.     He  liastened  to  Mon- 
treal, and  found  it  swarming  with  Indians  and  coureurs  de 
hois.     Two   hundred   canoes   had   arrived,   filled   with   the 
coveted  beaver  skins,     "  It  is  impossible,"  says  the  chronicle, 
"  to  conceive  the  joy  of  tlie  people,  when  they  beheld  these 
riches.    Canada  had  awaited  them  for  years.     The  merchants 
and  the  farmers  were  dying  of  hunger.    Credit  was  gone,  and 
everybody  was  afraid  that  the  enemy  would  waylay  and 
seize  this  last  resource  of  the  countrj'.     Tlierefore  it  wi.s, 
that  none  could  find  words  strong  enough  to  praise  and  bless 
him  by  whose  care  all  this  v.ealtli  had  arrived.     Father  of 
the  People,  Preserver  of  the  Country,  seemed  terms  too  weak 
to  exprecj  th,!ir  gratitude." 

WTiile  three  years  .  ■"  arrestea  sustenance  came  down  to- 
gether from  the  lake  ,  a  fleet  sailed  up  the  8t.  Lawrence, 
freightetl  with  soldiers  and  supplies.  The  horizon  of  Canada 
was  brightening. 


u 


li 

I! 

i  • 

H 


256  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


[1696 


THE  FKEXCH,  ENGLISH,  AND  INDIANS » 

In  the  year  1090,  the  veteran  Coimt  Frontenac  marched 
upon  the  cantuns  of  the  Iroquois  with  all  the  force  of  Canada. 
Steminiug  tlie  surges  of  La  Chine,  gliding  through  the  roman- 
tic channels  of  the  Thousand  Islands,  and  over  the  glimmer- 
ing surface  of  Lal^e  Ontario,  and  trailing  in  long  array  up 
the  current  of  the  Oswego,  they  disembarked  on  tlje  margin 
of  the  Lake  of  Onondaga ;  and,  startling  the  woodland  echoes 
with  the  clangor  of  their  trumpets,  urged  their  march  through 
the  mazes  of  the  forest.  Never  had  those  solitudes  beheld 
so  strange  a  pageantry.  The  Indian  allies,  naked  to  the 
waist  and  horribly  painted,  adorned  with  streaming  scalp- 
locks  and  fluttering  plumes,  stole  crouching  among  the 
thickets,  or  peered  with  lynx-eyed  vision  through  the  laby- 
rinths of  foliage.  Scouts  and  forest-rangers  scoured  the 
woods  in  front  and  flank  of  the  marching  columns  —  men 
trained  among  the  hardships  of  the  fur-trade,  thin,  sinewy, 
and  strong,  arrayed  in  wild  costume  of  beaded  moccasin, 
scarlet  leggin,  and  frock  of  buck-skin,  fantastically  garnished 
with  many-colored  embroidery  of  porcupine.  Then  came 
the  levies  of  the  colony,  in  gray  capotes  and  gaudy  sashes, 
and  the  trained  battalions  from  old  France  in  cuirass  and 
head-j>iece,  veterans  of  European  wars.  Plumed  cavaliers 
were  there,  who  had  followed  the  standards  of  Cond^  or 
Turenne,  and  who,  even  in  the  depths  of  a  wilderness,  scorned 

»  The  Consi>iiucy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  III. 


:7oo-i74o]  The  French,  English,  and  Indians      257 

to  lay  aside  the  martial  f(ij)])ery  which  bedecked  the  camp 
and  court  of  Louis  the  :Maguiticent.  The  stern  commander 
was  home  along  upon  a  litter  in  tlie  midst,  his  locks  bleached 
with  years,  but  his  eye  kindling  with  the  quenchless  lire 
which,  like  a  furnace,  burned  hottest  when  its  fuel  was 
almost  spent.  Thus,  beneath  the  sepulchral  arches  of  the 
forest,  through  tangled  thickets,  and  over  prostrate  trunks, 
the  aged  nobleman  advanced  to  wreak  his  vengeance  upon 
empty  wigwams  and  deserted  raaize-tields. 

Even  the  fierce  courage  of  the  Iroquois  began  to  quail 
before  these  repeated  attacks,  while  the  gradual  growtli  of 
the  colony,  and  the  arrival  of  troops  from  France,  at  length 
convinced  them  that  they  coidd  not  destroy  Canada.  With 
the  opening  of  the  eighteenth  century,  their  rancor  showed 
signs  of  abating  ;  and  in  the  year  1726,  by  dint  of  skilful 
intrigue,  the  French  succeeded  in  establi.shing  a  permanent 
military  post  at  the  important  pass  of  Niagara,  within  the 
limits  of  the  confederacy.  Meanwhile,  in  spite  of  every  ob- 
stacle, the  power  of  France  had  rapidly  extended  its  bound- 
aries in  the  west.  French  influence  diffused  itself  through 
a  thousand  channels,  among  distant  tribes,  hostile,  for  the 
most  part,  to  the  domineering  Iroquois.  Forts,  mission- 
houses,  and  armed  trading  stations  secured  the  principal 
passes.  Traders,  and  coureurs  de  bois  pushed  their  adven- 
turous traffic  into  the  wildest  deserts;  and  French  guns 
and  hatchets,  French  beads  and  cloth,  French  tobacco  and 
brandy,  were  known  from  where  the  stunted  Esquimaux 
burrowed  in  their  snow  caves,  to  where  the  Camanches 
scoured  the  jilains  of  the  south  with  their  banditti  cavalry. 
Still  this  far-extended  commerce  continued  to  advance  west- 
ward. In  1738,  La  V^rendrye  essayed  to  reach  those  mysteri- 
ous mountains  which,  as  the  Indians  alleged,  lay  beyond  the 

17 


i» 


J  f 


258  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1687-1750 

arid  deserts  of  the  Missouri  and  tlie  Saskatchawan.  Indian 
hostility  dok'aUvl  liis  ontt>ri)rise,  Imt  not  before  lie  Imd  struck 
far  <tut  into  these  unknown  wilds,  and  formed  a  line  of  trad- 
ing-posts, one  of  which,  Fort  ih  la  Keine,  was  planted  on  the 
Assinniboin,  a  limxlred  leagues  beyond  Lake  Wiiniij)eg.  At 
that  early  period,  France  left  lier  footsteps  upon  the  dreary 
wastes  wliich  v\\  n  now  have  no  other  tenants  than  the 
Ii.dian  bulMo-hunter  or  the  roving  trapper. 

The  fur-trade  of  the  Englisli  colonists  opposed  but  feeble 
rivalry  to  that  of  tlieir  hereditary  foes.     At  an  early  period, 
favored  by  the  friendsliip  of  the  Iroquois,  tiiey  attempted  to 
open  a  traillc  with  the  Algonquin  tribes  of  tlie  great  lakes; 
and  in  the  year  1C>S7,  Major  McGregory  ascended  with  a 
boat-load  of  goods  to  Lake  Huron,  where   his  appearance 
excited  great  <!ommotion,  and  where  he  was  seized  and  im- 
prisoned l)y  the  Fiench.     From  this  time  forwaid,  the  Eng- 
lisli fur-trade  languished,  until  the  year  1725,  when  Governor 
Burnet,  of  Xew  York,  established  a  post  on  Lake  Ontario,  at 
the  mouth  of  the  rner  Oswego  ;  whither,  lured  by  the  cheap- 
ness and  excellence  of  the  English  goods,  crowds  of  .savao'es 
soon  congregated  from  ever)-  side,  to  the  unspeakable  annoy- 
ance of  the  French.     ]\Ieanwhile,  a  considerable  commerce 
was  springing  up  with  the  Cherokees  and  other  tribes  of  the 
south ;  and  during  the  first  half  of  the  century,  the  people  of 
Tennsylvania  began  to  cross  the  Alleghanies,  and  can-y  on 
a  lucrative  traffic  with  the  tribes  of  the  Ohio.     In  1749,  La 
Jonquifere,  the  Governor  of   Canada,  learned,  to  his  great 
indignation,  that  several  English  traders  had  reached  San- 
dusky, and  were  exerting  a  bad  influence  upon  the  Indians 
of  that  quarter ;  and  two  years  later,  he  caused  four  of  the 
intruders  to  be  seized  near  the  Ohio,  and  sent  prisoners  to 
Canada. 


i6a5-i',5o]  The  French,  English,  and  Indians     259 

These  oaiiy  eflorts  of  the  Enjjlish,  considerable  as  they 
were,  can  ill  liear  comparison  with  the  vast  extent  of  the 
i'rench  interior  coninierce.  In  respect  also  to  missionary 
enterprise,  and  the  p(tlitical  influence  resulting  from  it,  the 
French  had  every  advantage  over  rivals  whose  zeal  for  cou- 
vereion  was  neitlier  kindled  by  fanaticism  nor  fostered  by  an 
ambitious  government.  Kliot  labored  within  call  of  lloston, 
while  the  heroic  Ilrcbeuf  faced  the  ghastl}-  jierils  of  the 
western  wilderness;  and  the  wanderings  of  Brainerd  sink 
into  insignificance  compared  with  those  of  the  devoted  Rale. 
Yet,  in  judging  the  relative  merits  of  the  Romish  and  Prot- 
estant missionaries,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  while  the 
former  contented  themselves  with  sprinkling  a  few  drops  of 
water  on  the  forehead  of  the  proselyte,  the  latter  sought  to 
wean  him  from  his  bar))arism  and  penetrate  his  savage  heart 
with  the  truths  of  Christianity. 

In  respect,  also,  to  direct  political  influence,  the  advantage 
was  wholly  on  the  side  of  France.  The  English  colonie.s, 
broken  into  se])arate  governments,  were  incapable  of  exercis- 
ing a  vigorous  and  consistent  Indian  policy ;  and  the  meas- 
ures of  one  government  often  clashed  with  those  of  another. 
Even  in  the  separate  provinces,  the  jxipular  nature  of  the 
constitution  and  the  (juarrels  of  governoi-s  and  assemblies 
were  unfavoralde  to  efficient  action ;  and  this  was  more 
especially  the  case  u»  the  province  of  New  York,  where  the 
vicinity  of  the  Iroquois  rendered  strenuous  yet  prudent 
measures  of  the  utmost  importance.  The  powerful  confeder- 
ates, hating  the  French  with  bitter  enmity,  naturally  inclined 
to  the  English  alliance  ;  and  a  proper  treatment  wotild  have 
secured  their  firm  and  lasting  friendship.  Rut,  at  the  early 
periods  of  her  histor}',  the  assembly  of  New  York  was  made 
up  in  great  measure  of  narrow-minded  men,  more  eager  to  cou- 


w>, 


Hi 

Hi 


l! 


||i 


260  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1625-1750 

.suit  tlicir  (iwn  jietty  intmcstH  :lian  In  jnirsue  any  far-.si<,dit(>(I 
si-luMiie  of  piililic,  wclfaiv.  O'.Ium-  causes  ousj.ired  to  injure 
the  r.iitish  interest  in  this  (juaiter.  The  annual  present 
sent  from  Kn;rlan<l  to  the  InKpiois  was  often  enihezzleil  by 
corrupt  ^'ovcrnors  or  iheir  favorites.  Tlie  ])rou(l  chiefs  were 
(lisjrimted  l.y  the  ccld  and  liaught\  liearing  of  the  ?:nglish 
otii^ials,  and  a  pernicious  custom  j.revailed  of  conducting 
Indian  negotiations  th.rough  the  medium  of  the  fnr-traders, 
a  class  of  men  held  in  contemi)t  by  the  Iroipiois,  ai,  .  known 
among  them  by  the  significant  title  of  "rum  carriers."  In 
short,  tiirough  all  the  councils  of  the  pro'.ince  f  Ur  11  affairs 
were  grossly  and  madly  negleck'd. 

With  more  or  less  emi>hasis,  the  same  remark  holds  true 
of  all  the  other  English  colonies.    With  those  of  France,  it  was 
far  otherwise  ;  and  this  difference  between  the  rival  powers 
was  naturally  incident  to  their  different  forms  of  government, 
and  different  conditions   of   development.     France  labored 
with  eager  diligence  to  conciliate  the  Indians  and  win  tliem 
to  espouse  her  cause.     Her  agents  were  busy  in  every  \  illage, 
studying  the  language  of  the  inmates,  complying  with  their 
usages,  flattering  their  prejudices,  caressing  them,  cajoling 
them,  and  whispering  friendly  uanirngs  in  their  ears  against 
the  wicked  designs  of  the  English.     When  a  party  of  Indian 
chiefs  visited  1    French  f.»rt,  they  were  greeted   with    the 
firing  of  camion  and  rolling  of  drums;  they  were  regaled  at 
the  tables  of  the  officers,  and  bribed  with  medals  and  deco- 
rations, scarlet  uniforms  and  French  flags.     Far  wiser  ti 
their  rivals,  the    French   never  ruffled  the  sel f-complact . 
dignity  of  their  guests,  never  insulted  their  religious  notions, 
nor  I'idiculed  their  ancient  customs.     They  met  the  savage 
half  way,  and  showed  an  abundant  readiness  to  mould  their 
own  features  after  his  likeness.     Count  Fr^ntenac  himself, 


1625-1750]  The  French,  English,  and  Indians      261 

plumed  and  jminted  like  an  Indian  chief,  danced  the  war- 
dance  and  yelled  the  war-song  at  the  camp-fires  ot  his  de- 
lighted allies.  It  wouh'  have  been  well  had  the  French 
been  less  exact  in  tiieir  imitations,  for  at  times  they  copied 
their  model  with  infamous  fidelity,  ind  fell  into  excesses 
scarcely  credilde  but  for  the  concurrent  testimony  of  their 
own  writers.  Frontenac  caused  an  Iroquois  prisoner  to  be 
burnt  ali'-e  to  strike  terror  into  his  countrymen  ;  and  Louvigny, 
P>ench  commandant  at  ]\Iichillimackinac,  in  1695,  tortured 
an  Irofjuois  aml)assador  to  death,  that  h  •  might  break  oft' 
a  negotiation  between  that  people  and  the  Wyandots.  Nor 
are  these  the  only  well-attested  instances  of  such  execrable 
inhumanity.  Uut  if  the  French  were  guilty  of  these  cruel- 
ties against  their  Indian  enemies,  they  were  no  less  guilty  of 
unworthy  compliance  with  the  demands  of  their  Indian 
friends,  in  cases  where  Christianity  and  civilization  would 
have  dictated  a  prompt  refusal.  Even  Montcalm  stained 
his  bright  name  by  abandoning  the  hapless  defenders  of 
Oswego  and  William  Henry  to  the  tender  mercies  of  an 
Indian  mob. 

In  general,  however,  the  Indian  policy  of  the  French 
cannot  be  chaj-ged  wi  h  obsecjuiousness.  Ct)mplaisance  was 
tempered  with  dignity.  At  an  early  period,  they  discerned 
the  peculiarities  of  the  native  character,  and  clearly  saw 
that  while  on  the  one  hand  it  was  necessary  to  avoid 
giving  offence,  it  was  not  less  necessary  on  the  other  to  as- 
sume a  bold  demeanor  and  a  show  of  power ;  to  caress  with 
one  hand,  and  grasp  a  drawn  sword  with  the  other.  Every 
crime  against  a  Frenchman  was  ])romptly  chastised  by  the 
sharp  agency  of  military  law;  whib  among  the  English, 
the  offender  could  only  be  reached  through  the  mediuii. 
of  the  civil  courts,  whose  delays,  uncertainties  and  eva- 


262  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1625-1750 

sions  excitetl  the  wonder  and  provoked  the  conlenipt  of  tlie 
Indians. 

It  was  l»y  ohservanrte  of  the  course  indicatett  above,  that 
the  Frent''  were  enabled  to  maintain  themselves  in  small 
detached  ]>osts,  far  aloof  from  the  parent  colony,  and  en- 
vironed by  barbarous  tribes  where  an  Knglish  garrison  woiild 
have  been  cut  olT  in  a  twelvemonth.  They  profes.sed  to  hold 
these  ]>osts,  not  in  their  own  right,  but  purely  thnuigh  the 
grace  and  condescension  of  the  surrounling  .savages;  and 
by  this  conciliating  assurance  they  sriiglit  to  make  good 
their  position,  until,  with  their  growing  strength,  conciliation 
should  no  more  be  needed. 

In  its  efforts  to  win  the  friendship  and  alliance  of  the 
Indian  tribes,  the  French  government  found  ever}  advantage 
in  the  peculiar  character  of  its  subjects —  tliat  pliant  and 
plastic  temper  which  forms  so  marked  a  contrast  to  the 
stubborn  spirit  of  the  Englishman.  From  the  beginning,  the 
French  showed  a  tendency  to  amalgamate  witli  the  forest 
tribes.  "  The  manners  of  the  savages,"  writes  the  Baron  La 
Hontan,  "  are  perfectly  agreeable  to  my  palate  ;  "  and  many 
a  restless  adventurer  of  high  or  low  degree  might  have 
echoed  the  words  of  the  erratic  soldier.  At  first,  great 
hopes  were  entertained  that,  by  the  mingling  of  French  and 
Indians,  the  latter  would  be  won  over  to  civilization  and 
the  church  ;  but  the  effect  was  precisely  the  reverse ;  for,  as 
Ciiarlevoix  observes,  the  savages  did  not  become  French,  but 
the  French  became  savages.  Hundreds  betook  themselves 
to  the  forest,  never  more  to  return.  These  outflowings  of 
Frencli  civilization  were  merged  in  the  waste  of  barbarism, 
as  a  river  is  lost  in  the  sands  of  the  desert.  The  wander- 
ing Frenchman  chose  a  wife  or  a  concubine  among  his 
Indian  friends  ;  and,  in  a  few  generations,  scarcely  a  trite  of 


1625-1750]  The  French,  English,  and  Indians      263 

tlie  West  was  free  from  an  infusion  of  Celtic  blood.  Tlie 
Frenrh  empire  in  America  could  exhiltit  among  its  subjects 
every  shade  of  color  from  white  to  red,  every  gradation  of 
culture  from  the  h  ^liost  civilization  of  Paris  to  tlie  rudest 
barbarism  of  the  wigwam. 

The  fur-trade  engendered  a  peculiar  class  of  men,  known 
by  the  approiniate  name  of  J)ush-rangei's,  or  courcurs  dc 
buis,^  iialf- civilized  vagrants,  whose  ciiief  vocation  was  con- 
ducting the  canoes  of  the  traders  along  the  lakes  and  rivers 
of  the  interior  ;  many  of  them,  however,  shaking  loose  every 
tie  of  blood  and  kindrcil,  idcnliticd  themselves  with  the 
Indians,  and  sank  into  utter  barbarism.  In  many  a  squalid 
camp  among  'he  plains  and  forests  of  the  West,  the  traveller 
would  have  encountered  men  owning  the  blood  and  sjHjak- 
ing  the  language  of  France,  yet,  in  their  swarthy  visages 
and  barl)arous  costume,  seeming  more  akin  to  those  with 
whom  they  had  cast  their  lot.  The  renegade  of  civilization 
caught  the  habits  and  imbibed  the  prejudices  of  his  chosen 
associates.  He  loved  to  decorate  his  long  hair  with  eagle 
feathers,  to  make  his  face  hideous  with  vermilion,  ochre,  and 
soot,  and  to  adorn  his  greasy  hunting  frock  with  horsehair 
fringes.  His  dwelling,  if  he  had  one,  was  a  wigwam.  He 
lounged  on  a  bear-skin  while  his  squaw^  boiled  his  venison 
and  lighted  his  pipe.  In  hunting,  in  dancing,  in  singing,  in 
taking  a  scalp,  he  rivalled  the  genuine  Indian.  His  mind 
was  tinctured  with  the  superstitions  of  the  forest.  He  had 
faith  in  the  magic  drum  of  the  conjurer ;  he  was  not  sure 
that  a  thunder  cloud  could  not  be  frightened  away  by  whist- 
ling at  it  through  the  wing  bone  of  an  eagle  ;  he  carried  the 
tail  of  a  rattlesnake  in  his  bullet  pouch  by  way  of  amulet ; 
and  he  placed  implicit  trust  in  his  dreams.     This  class  of 

1  See  pp.  180-185.  — Eu. 


264  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent      rx«»s-»75« 

men  is  not  yet  cxtind.  In  the  clieorless  wild.s  lu-yond  Hip 
northern  lakes,  or  a.nonjj  the  niouutain  solitudes  ..f  the  dis- 
tant West,  tlu'y  may  still  he  found,  unchanged  in  life  and 
character  sinee  the  day  wlien  Louis  the  (Jreat  elainied  sov- 
ereij^fnty  over  tliis  desert  empire. 

The  hordei-s  of  the  English  c(,lonies  displayed   no  such 
phenomena  of  inin{,din{:;  races;  fi.r  here  a  thorny  and  im- 
practicable barrier  divided  the  white  man  from  the  red.     The 
English  fur-traders,  and  the  rude  men  in  their  employ,  showed, 
it  is  true,  an  ample  alacrity  to  fling  off  the  restraints  of  civil- 
ization;  but  though  they  became  barbarians,  they  did  not 
become  Indians;  and  scorn  on  the  one  side  and  hatred  on 
the  other  still  marked  the  intercourse  of  the  hostile  races. 
With  the  settlers  of  the  frontier  it  was  nnich  the  same. 
Rude,  fierce,  and  contemptuous,  they  daily  encroached  upon 
the  hunting-grt)unds  of  the  Indians,  and  then  paid  them  for 
the  injury  \vL]\  curses  and  threats.     Thus  the  native  popu- 
lation shrank  ba>^k  from  before  the  English,  as  from  before 
an  advancing  pestilence;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the 
very  heart  of  Canada,  Indian  communities  sprang  up,  cher- 
ished by  the  government,  and  favored  by  the  easy-tempered 
people.     At  Lorette,  at  Caughnawaga,  at  St.  Francis,  and 
elsewhere  within  the  province,  large  Viands  were  gathered 
together,  consisting  in  part  of  fugitives  from  the  borders  of 
the  hated  English,  and  aiding  in  time  of  war  to  swell  the 
forces  of  the  French  in  repeated  forays  against  the  settle- 
ments of  New  York  and  New  England. 


I6M1 


Detroit 


265 


DETROIT' 


In  the  few  years  of  doubtful  peaoe  that  preceded  Queen 
Anne's  War,  an  entcrinise  was  lK'<,nin,  which,  nowise  in 
accord  witli  the  wishes  and  expectations  of  those  engaged 
in  it,  was  destined  to  produce  as  its  last  result  an  American 

city. 

Antoine  de  Ta  ^lothc-C.dillac  commanded  at  Michilli- 
mackinac,  whither  Froutenac  had  sent  him  in  1G94. 

La  Mothe-Cadillac  was  a  captain  in  the  colony  tn^ops,  and 
an  admirer  of  the  late  governor,  Frontenac,  to  whose  policy 
he  adhered,  and  whose  prejudices  he  shared.  He  was  amply 
gifted  with  the  knid  of  intelligence  that  consists  in  quick 
observation,  sharpened  by  an  inveterate  spirit  of  sarcasm, 
was  energetic,  enterprising,  well  instructed,  and  a  bold  and 
sometimes  a  visionary  schemer,  with  a  restless  spirit,  a 
nimble  and  biting  wit,  a  Gascon  impetuosity  of  tempera- 
ment, and  as  much  devotion  as  art  ofhcer  of  the  king  was 
forced  to  profess,  coupled  with  small  love  of  priests  and  an 
aversion  to  Jesuits.  Carheil  and  Marest,  missionaries  of 
that  order  at  Michillimackinac,  were  objects  of  his  especial 
antii)athy,  which  they  fully  returned.  The  two  priests  were 
impatient  gf  a  military  commandant  to  whose  authority  they 
were  in  some  small  measure  subjected;  and  ^hey  imputed 
to  him  the  disorders  which  he  did  not,  and  perhaps  could 
not,  prevent.     They  were  opposed  also  to  the  traffic  in  brandy, 

1  A  Half  Century  of  Conflict,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  11. 


n 


!  1^ 


■;:l; 


266  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (1699 

which  was  favored  by  Cadillac  on  the  usual  ground  that  it 
attracted  the  Indians,  and  so  prevented  the  Knglish  from 
getting  control  of  the  fur-trade. 

The  strait  —  di'troit — whifh  connects  Lake  Huron  with 
Lake  Erie  was  the  most  important  of  all  the  Western  i)asses. 

It  was  tlie  key  of  the 
three  upj)er  lakes, 
with  the  vast  coun- 
tries watered  by 
their  tributaries,  and 
it  gave  Canada  her 
readiest  access  to  the 
valley  of  the  Missis- 
sippi. If  the  French 
held  it,  the  Enj^jlish 
W(  dd  be  shut  out 
from  the  Northwest ; 
if,  as  seemed  likely, 
the  English  should 
seize  it,  the  Cana- 
dian fur-trade  would 
be  ruined.  The  pt>s- 
session  of  it  by  the 
French  would  be  a 
constant  curb  and 
menace  to  the  Five 
Nations,  as  well  as 
a  barrier  between  those  still  formidable  tribes  and  the  West- 
ern Indians, allies  of  Canada;  and  when  the  intended  French 
establishment  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  should  be 
made,  Detroit  would  be  an  indispensable  link  of  communi- 
cation between  Canada  and  Louisiana. 


i699]  Det  oit  267 

Cadillac's  plan  of  a  setllenn  at  Detroit  was  not  at  first 
received  with  favor  l>y  Calli?'  s,  the  governor ;  while  the 
inteudunt,  Chamiiigny,  a  fast  ii  end  of  the  .Jesuits,  strongly 
opjMised  it.  iJy  their  order  tlie  liief  inhabitants  of  Quebec 
met  at  the  Clulteau  St.  Louis,  <  "alliferes,  Clmmpigny,  and 
(,'adillac  himself  lH.'ing  present.  There  was  a  heated  debate 
on  the  beaver-trade,  after  which  the  intendant  commanded 
.'ijh'nce,  exjJained  the  pi' ieclsuf  (  dillac,  and  proceeded  to 
opiK)se  them. 

il  \\\  h  ("suits  of  the  meeting 

ml  li'  ^v^.!       •  the  minister :  "You 
•usiifsswi,     sue    od  if  it  is  dis- 
''anatu  is  a      uiitry  of  cabals  and 
ible  t«.  rt«(-n<ile  so  many  different 
iir  1    uii  o,  app.         \\  in  the  autumn 
leni'  'iirt.     \i  k  lie  had  an  inter- 

ai  n  i-  tt,  I  •111.  ,.i!iiain,  to  whom  he 
represented  the  ini  lary  ainl  >liti  ai  expediency  of  his  pro- 
]K>sed  establishuM*  it  ,  an'  iii  n  letlt^r  whii  h  seems  to  be 
addressed  to  La    r«>uc!  ief  rh-\V   in  tlie  Department  of 

1 1  that  the  execution  of  his 
01  Ca  la  and  the  niin  of  the 
♦  soldiers  and  fifty  Cana- 
xed  in  the  next  year  by 
twenty  or  thirty  famili'  «  amj  y  two  hundred  picked  men 
of  various  trades,  sent  oi  ii  ihe  king's  charge,  along  with 
priests  of  several  commun.  les,  and  liins  to  attend  the  sick 
and  teach  the  Indian  girls.  "I  caimnt  tell  you,"  continues 
Cadillac,  "  the  efforts  my  enemies  ]u..e  made  to  deprive  me 
of  the  honor  of  executing  my  project;  but  so  soon  as  M.  de 
Ponchartrain  decides  in  its  favor,  the  whole  country  will 
applaud  it." 


Cadillac  was  nut 
at  the  Chateau  St.  1 
can  never  hope  tb.i! 
cussed  here  on  the 
intiigues,  and  it  is 
interests."  lie  .sail 
of  1699,  to  urge  hi 
view  with  the  col 


Marine  and  C<      aes,  1 
]>lan  would  insi,;e  the 
British  colonies.     He  a 
dians  to  begin  the  work. 


i! 


O 


f 


l| 


Vi 


268  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (1701 

Ponchaitraiu  accej)ted  the  jilan,  and  Cadillac  returned  to 
Canada  ("nuuisHioned  to  execute  it.  Early  in  June,  1701, 
he  left  I^  Chino  with  a  luuulred  men  in  twenty -five  canoes 
loaded  with  provisions,  goods,  munitions,  and  ttuils.  He  was 
accom[>anied  by  Alj.lionse  de  Tonty,  brollier  of  Henri  de  Tontv , 
the  companion  of  \jx  Salle,  and  l»y  two  half-pay  lieutenants, 
l)ujfu»'  and  Ciiacornacle,  tojrether  with  a  .Jesuit  and  a  \l6vol- 
let.  Following  Die  dillicult  route  of  the  Ottawa  and  l^ke 
Huron,  tlu-y  reached  their  destination  on  the  lwenty-ft)urth 
of  July,  and  built  a  jiicket  fort  sixty  yards  siiuare,  which  by 
order  of  the  governor  they  named  Fort  ronchartiain.  It 
8t(H)d  near  the  west  bank  of  the  strait,  abuut  forty  paces 
fri>m  the  water.  Thus  was  planted  the  germ  of  the  city  of 
Detroit. 

What  he  had,  perhaps,  most  at  heart  was  to  make 
money  by  the  fur-trade.  I5y  commaiul  of  tlie  king  a  radi- 
cal change  had  lately  been  made  in  this  chief  commerce  of 
Canada,  and  the  entire  control  of  it  had  l)een  placed  in  the 
hands  of  a  company  in  which  all  Canadians  might  take 
shares.  But  as  the  risks  were  great  and  the  conditions  ill- 
defined,  the  number  of  sid)scril>ers  wo  not  much  above  one 
hundred  and  fifty ;  and  the  rest  of  liie  colony  found  them- 
selves shut  out  from  the  trade,  —  to  the  ruin  of  some,  and 
the  injury  of  all. 

All  trade  in  furs  was  restricted  to  Detroit  and  Fort  Fron- 
teuac,  both  of  which  were  granted  to  the  company,  subject 
to  be  resumed  by  the  king  at  his  jileasure.  The  company 
was  to  repay  the  eighty  thousand  francs  wliich  the  expedition 
to  Detroit  had  cost;  and  to  this  was  added  various  other 
burdens.     The  king,  however,  was  to  maintain  the  garrison. 

All  the  affairs  of  the  company  were  placed  in  the  hands 
of  seven  directors,  wLo  began  immediately  to  complain  that 


»703]  Detroit  269 

their  burdens  were  too  heavj, aiul  to  lK?g  fcr  more  i)rivilej(«'s ; 
while  nn  outcry  njjiiin.st  the  iiriviK'j,'es  uhvaily  paiiteil  ro.se 
from  those  who  Imd  ii<>t  taken  .sharrs  in  the  enteridse. 
Itoth  in  the  comimny  and  out  of  it  tlieie  was  nothing  hut 
discontent. 

If  the  Indians  came  to  Detroit,  the  Kiviuh  w..uld  not 
come.  CadiUac  had  asked  for  live  or  six  families  as  the 
modest  lieginning  of  a  settlement;  but  not  one  had  ajipeared. 
The  Indians,  too,  were  angry  beiause  the  cotniiany  asked  too 
mi;ch  for  its  ooods;  whih;  the  compan;- complained  that  a 
forbidden  trade,  fatal  to  its  interests,  went  on  through  all 
the  region  of  the  rpjier  Lakes.  It  was  easy  to  ordain  a 
monojHdy,  but  impossible  to  enforce  it.  The  prospects  )f 
the  new  estaltlishment  were  deplorable;  and  Cadillac  h)st 
no  time  in  presenting  his  views  of  the  situation  to  the  court. 
"Detroit  is  good,  <ir  it  is  bad,"  he  writes  to  ronchartrain 
"  If  it  is  good,  it  ought  to  be  sustained,  without  allowing  the 
jieople  of  Canada  to  <l(diberate  any  more  about  it.  If  it  is 
bad,  the  court  ought  to  make  uj)  its  ndnd  coiu-erning  it  as 
soon  as  may  be.  I  have  .><aid  what  I  thmk.  I  have  exj.lained 
the  situation.  You  have  felt  the  need  of  Detroit,  and  its 
utility  for  the  glory  of  (}od,  the  jirogress  of  religion,  and  the 
good  of  the  colony.  Nothing  is  left  me  to  do  but  to  iiuitate 
the  governor  of  the  Holy  City,  — take  water,  and  wash  my 
hands  of  it."  His  aim  now  appears.  He  says  that  if  Detroit 
were  made  a  .separate  government,  and  he  were  put  at  the 
head  of  it,  its  prosi)ects  would  improve.  "  Vou  may  well 
believe  that  the  company  cares  for  nothing  l»ut  to  make  a 
profit  out  of  it.  It  oidy  wants  to  have  a  storehouse  and 
clerks;  no  officers,  no  troops,  no  inhabitants.  Take  this 
business  in  hand,  Monseigneur,  and  I  promise  that  in  two 
\nars  your  Detroit  shall  be  established  of  itself."     He  then 


270  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1704 

informs  the  minister  that  as  the  company  complain  of  losing 
money,  he  has  told  them  that  if  they  will  make  over  their 
rights  to  him,  he  will  pay  them  back  all  their  past  outlays. 
"  I  promise  you,"  he  informs  Ponchartrain,  "  that  if  they  ac- 
cept my  proposal  and  you  approve  it,  I  will  make  our  Detroit 
flourish.  Judge  if  it  is  agreeable  to  me  to  have  to  answer 
for  my  actions  to  five  or  six  merchants  [the  directors  of  the 
Of  iiipauy],  who  not  long  ago  were  blackhig  their  masters' 
loots." 

Cadillac's  proposal  was  accepted.  The  company  was  re- 
([uired  to  abandon  Detroit  to  him  on  his  paying  .hem  the 
expenses  they  had  incurred.  Their  monoiwly  was  trans- 
ferred to  him  ;  but  as  far  as  concerned  beaver-sldns,  his  trade 
was  limited  to  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year.  The  gov- 
ernor was  ordered  to  give  him  as  many  soldiers  as  he  might 
want,  permit  as  many  persons  to  settle  at  Detroit  as  might 
choose  to  do  so,  and  provide  missionaries.  The  minister 
exhorted  him  to  quarrel  no  more  with  the  Jesuits,  or  any- 
body else,  to  banish  Idasphemy  and  bad  morals  from  the 
post,  and  not  to  offend  the  Five  Nations. 

The  promised  era  of  prosperity  diil  not  come.  Detroit 
lingered  on  in  a  weak  and  troul)led  infancy,  disturbed,  as 
we  shall  see,  by  startling  incidents.  Its  occui)atii>n  by  the 
French  produced  a  noteworthy  result.  The  Five  Nations, 
filled  with  jealousy  and  alarm,  appealed  to  the  King  of 
Kugland  for  protection,  and,  the  better  to  insure  it,  conveyed 
the  whole  country  from  Lake  OntaritJ  northward  to  Lake 
Superior,  and  westward  as  far  as  Chicago,  "  unto  our  souver- 
aigne  Lord  King  William  the  Third  "  and  his  heirs  and  suc- 
cessors ft)rever.  This  territory  is  described  in  the  deed  as 
l>eing  about  eight  hundred  miles  long  and  four  hundred 
wide,  and  was  cliiiiued  by  the  Five  Nations  as  theirs  by 


17041 


Detroit 


271 


right  of  conquest.  It  of  course  included  Detroit  itself. 
The  conveyance  was  drawn  by  the  English  authorities  at 
Albany  in  a  form  to  suit  their  purposes,  and  included  terms 
of  subjection  and  sovereignty  which  the  signers  could  un- 
derstand but  imperfectly,  if  at  all.  The  Five  Nations  gave 
away  their  land  to  no  purpose.  The  French  remained  in 
undisturbed  possession  of  Detroit.  The  English  made  no 
attempt  to  enforce  their  title,  but  they  put  the  deed  on  file, 
and  used  it  long  after  as  the  base  of  their  claim  to  the  region 
of  the  Lakes. 


272  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1704 


THE  ATTACK   OX  DEERFIELD  ^ 


ii 


About  midwinter  tlie  Clovernor  of  Canada  sent  another  large 
war-party  against  tlie  New  England  border.  The  ol)ject  of 
attack  was  an  unoffending  handet,  that  from  its  position 
could  never  he  a  menace  to  the  French,  and  the  destruction 

of  which  could  profit  them 
notliing.  The  aim  of  the  en- 
terprise was  jujt  military,  hut 
political.  "  I  have  sent  no 
war-party  towards  Albany," 
writes  Vaudreuil,  "  because 
we  must  do  nothing  that 
might  cause  a  ruj)ture  be- 
tween us  and  the  Irocjuois; 
but  we  must  keep  things  astir 
in  til"  direction  of  Boston,  or 
else  the  Abenakis  will  declare 
for  (he  ?Jiglish."  In  short, 
the  object  wa.  fully  to  com- 
mit these  savages  to  hostility 
against  New  England,  and  convince  them  at  the  same  time 
that  the  French  would  back  their  (juarrel. 

The   jtarty    consisted,  a( rding   to    French    accounts,  of 

fifty  Canadians   and  two  hui\dred  Abenakis  and  Caughna- 
wagas,  —  (he  latter  of  whom,  while  trading  constantly  with 

'  A  Half  CViilu.y  ol'Coiiltki,   Vol.  I.,  Ch.  IV. 


Ilertd  <le  Hnuvillf 


The  Attack  on  Deerfield 


'704]  M.  MAX,    ixi\.av.n.    \Jii    I^tCHiClU  ;i/j 

Albany,  were  rarely  averse  to  a  raid  agaiiii^t  ^Massachusetts 
or   New   Hampshire.      The    comniand   was   given    to   the 
younger  Hertel  de  Ilouville,  who  was  accompanied  by  four 
of  liis  brothers.     They  began  their  march  in  the  depth  of 
winter,  journeyed  nearly  three  hundred  miles  on  snow-shoes 
through  the  ft)rest,  and  approached  their  destination  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  twenty-eighth  of  Febn-ary,  1704.    It  was  the 
village  of  Deerfield,  —which  then  formed  the  extreme  nonli- 
western  frontier  of  Massachusetts,  its   feeble  neiglibor,  the 
infant  settlement  of  Xorthiield,  a  little  higher  up  the  Con- 
necticut, having  l)een  abandoned  during  the  last  war.     Kou- 
ville  halted  his  foHowers  at  a  place  now  called  I'etty's  Plain, 
two  miles  from  the  village;  and  hereunder  the  shelter  of 
a  pine  forest,  they  all  lay  hidden,  shivering  with  cold,  —  for 
they  dared  not  make  fires,  —  and  hungry  as  wolves,  for  their 
provisions  were  spent.     Though  their  numbers,  by  the  low- 
est ac'iouut,  were  nearly  equal  to  the  whole  population  of 
Deerfield,  —  men,    women,    and    children,  —  tliey   had    no 
thought  of  an   open   attack,  but   trusted   to  darkness  and 
surprise  for  an  easy  victory. 

Deerfield  stood  on  a  plateau  above  the  river  meadows, 
and  the  hou.ses  —  forty-one  in  all  —  were  chiefiy  along  the 
road  towards  the  villages  of  liadley  and  Hatfield,  a  few 
miles  distant.  In  the  juiddle  of  the  jilace,  on  a  rising 
ground  called  Meeting-liouse  Hill,  was  a  small  square 
wooden  me-Jting-lKJUse.  This,  with  about  fifteen  private 
houses,  besides  barns  and  sheds,  was  encloseil  b^-  a  fence 
of  palisades  eight  feet  high,  flanked  by  "  mounts,"  or  block- 
houses, at  two  or  more  of  tlie  corners.  The  four  sides  of 
this  palisaded  enclosure,  which  was  called  the  fort,  meas- 
ured in  all  n<i  less  than  two  hundred  and  two  rods,  and 
within  it  lived   some  of  the   principal  inhabitants  of  the 

18 


it :    1 


274  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1704 

village,  of  which  it  formed  the  centre  or  citadel.  Chief 
among  its  inmates  was  John  Williams,  the  minister,  a  man 
of  character  and  education,  who,  after  graduating  at  Har- 
vard, had  come  to  Deerfield  when  it  was  still  suffering  under 
the  ruinous  effects  of  King  I'hilip's  War,  and  entered  on 
his  ministry  with  a  salary  of  sixty  pounds  in  depreciated 
Xew  England  currency,  payable,  not  in  money,  but  in 
wheat,  Indian  corn,  and  pork.  His  parishioners  built  him 
a  house,  he  married,  and  had  now  eight  children,  one  of 
whom  was  absent  with  friends  at  Hadley.  His  next  neigh- 
bor was  Benoni  Stebbins,  sergeant  in  the  county  militia, 
who  lived  a  few  rods  from  the  meeting-house.  About  fifty 
jards  distant,  and  near  the  northwest  angle  of  the  enclosure, 
stood  the  house  of  Ensign  John  Sheldon,  a  framed  building, 
one  of  the  largest  in  the  village,  and,  like  that  of  Stebbins, 
made  bullet-proof  by  a  layer  of  bricks  between  the  outer  and 
inner  sheathing,  while  its  small  windows  and  its  projecting 
upper  story  also  helped  to  make  it  defensible. 

The  space  enclosed  by  the  palisade,  though  much  too 
large  for  effective  defence,  served  in  time  of  alarm  as  an 
asylum  for  the  inhabitants  outside,  whose  houses  were 
scattered,  — some  on  the  north  towards  the  hidden  enemy, 
and  some  on  the  south  towards  Hadley  and  Hatfield. 
Among  those  on  the  south  side  was  that  of  the  militia 
captain,  Jonathan  Wells,  which  had  a  palisade  of  its  own, 
and,  like  the  so-called  fort,  served  as  an  asylum  for  the 
neighbors. 

On  the  night  when  Hertel  de  Rouville  and  his  band  lay 
hidden  among  the  pines  there  were  in  all  the  settlement  a 
little  less  than  three  hundred  souls,  of  whom  two  hundred  and 
sixty-eight  were  inhabitants,  twenty  were  yeoman  soldiers  of 
the  garrison,  two  were  visitors  from  Hatfield,  and  three  were 


1704]  The  Attack  on  Deerfield  275 

nej^ro  slaves,  '"'hey  were  of  all  ages,  —  from  the  Widow 
Allison,  in  her  eighty-tiflh  year,  to  the  infant  sou  of  Deacon 
French,  aged  four  weeks. 

Heavy  snows  had  lately  fallen  and  huried  the  clearings, 
the  meadow,  and  the  frozen  river  to  the  depth  of  full  three 
feet.  On  the  northwestern  side  the  drifts  were  piled  nearly 
to  the  top  of  the  palisade  fence,  so  that  it  was  no  longer  an 
ohstruclion  to  an  active  enemy. 

As  the  afternoon  waned,  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the 
little  border  hamlet  were,  no  doubt,  like  those  of  any  other 
rustic  New  Jlngland  village  at  the  end  of  a  winter  day,  — 
an  ox-sledge  creaking  on  the  frosty  snow  as  it  brought  in 
the  last  load  of  firewood,  boys  in  homespun  snowballing 
each  other  in  the  village  street,  farmers  feeding  their  horses 
and  cattle  in  the  barns,  a  matron  drawing  a  pail  of  water 
with  the  help  of  one  of  those  long  well-sweeps  still  used  in 
some  remote  districts,  or  a  girl  bringing  a  pail  of  milk  from 
the  cow-shed.  In  the  houses,  where  one  room  served  as 
kitchen,  dining-room,  and  parlor,  the  housewife  cooked  the 
evening  meal,  children  sat  at  their  bowls  of  mush  and  milk, 
and  the  men  of  the  family,  their  day's  work  over,  gathered 
about  the  fire,  while  perhaps  some  village  coquette  sat  in 
the  corner  with  fingers  busy  at  the  spinning-wheel,  and  ears 
intent  on  the  stammered  wooings  of  her  rustic  lover.  Deer- 
field  kept  early  hours,  and  it  is  likely  that  by  nuie  o'clock 
all  were  in  their  beds.  There  was  a  patrol  inside  the  pali- 
sade, but  there  was  little  discipline  among  these  extempo- 
rized soldiers ;  the  watchers  grew  careless  as  the  frosty  night 
went  on ;  and  it  is  said  that  towards  morning  they,  like  the 
villagers,  betook  themselves  to  their  lieds. 

Kouville  and  his  men,  savage  with  hunjjer,  lay  shivering 
under  the  pines  till  about  two  hours  before  dawn;  then, 


276  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1704 

leavinjT   their   packa    ami    their    snow-shoes    behiud,   thev 
juoved  cautiously  towards  their  j.rey.     There  was  a  crust 
on  the  snow  strong  enough  to  bear  their  weight,  though  not 
to  prevent  a  rustling  noise  as  it  crunched  under  the  feet  of 
so  many  men.     It  is  said  that  from  time  to  time  Kouville 
commanded  a  halt,  in  order  that  the  sentinels,  if  such  they 
were,  might  mistake  the  distant  sound  for  rising  and  falling 
gusts  of  win. I.     In  any  case,  no  alarm  was  given  till  they 
had   mounted   the   palisade  and  dropped  silently  into  the 
unconscious  village.     Then  with  one  accord  they  screeched 
the  war-whoop,  and  assailed  the  doors  of  the  houses  with 
axes  and  hatchets.     The  hi.leous  din  startled  the  minister, 
Williams,  from  his  sleep.     Half  wakened,  he  sprang  out  of 
bed,  and  saw  dimly  a  crowd  of  savages  l)ursting  thnnigli  the 
shattered  door.    He  shouted  to  two  s.ddiers  who  were  lodged 
in  the  house;  and  then,  with  more  valor  than  discretion, 
snatched  a  pistol  that  hung  at  the  head  of  the  bed,  cocked 
it,  and  snajijwd  it  at  the  breast  of  the  foremost  Indian,  who 
proved  to  lie  a  Caughnawaga  chief.     It  missed  fire,  or  Wil- 
liams would,  no  doubt,  have  been  killed  on  the  spot.     Amid 
the  screams  of  his  terrified  children,  three  of  the  party  seized 
him  and  bound  him  fast ;  for  they  came  well  provided  with 
cords,  since  prisoners  had  a  market  value.     Nevertheless  in 
the  first  fury  of  their  attack  they  dragged  to  the  door  and 
nmrdered  two  of  the  children  and  a  negro  woman  called 
Parthena,  who  was  probably  their  nurse.     In  an  upper  room 
lodged  a  young   man   named  Stoddard,  who   had   time  to 
snatch  a  cloak,  throw  himself  out  of  the  window,  climb  the 
palisade,  and  escape  in  the  darkness.    Half  naked  as  he  was, 
he  made  his  way  over  the  snow  to  Hatfield,  binding  his  bare 
feet  with  strips  torn  from  the  cloak 

They  kept  Williams  shivering  in  liis  shirt  for  an  hour 


1704]  The  Attack  on  Deerfield  277 

while  a  friglitful  uproar  of  yells,  shrieks,  and  gunshots 
sounded  fioiu  without.  At  length  they  permitted  hiin,  his 
wife,  and  five  remaining  chihhen  t*»  dress  themselves, 
Meanwhile  the  Indians  and  their  allies  burst  into  most 
of  the  houses,  killed  such  of  the  men  as  resisted,  butchered 
some  of  tlie  women  and  children,  and  seized  and  bound  the 
rest.  Some  of  the  villagers  escaped  in  the  confusion,  like 
Stoddard,  and  either  tied  half  dead  with  cold  towards  Hat- 
Held,  or  souL'ht  refuge  in  the  fortified  house  of  .lonathan 
Wells. 

The  house  of  Stebbins,  the  minister's  next  neiglibor,  had 
not  been  attacked  so  soon  as  the  rest,  and  the  inmates  had 
a  little  time  for  preparatitii.  They  consisted  of  Stebbins 
himself,  with  his  wife  and  tive  children,  David  Iloyt,  Josepli 
Catlin,  Ik'iijamin  Church,  a  namesake  of  the  (dd  Indian 
nghter  of  Philii)'s  War,  and  three  other  men,  —  probably 
refugees  who  liad  brought  their  wives  and  families  within 
the  palisaded  enclosure  for  safety.  Thus  the  house  con- 
tained seven  men,  four  or  five  women,  and  a  considerable 
number  of  children.  Though  the  walls  were  bullet-proof, 
it  was  not  built  for  defence.  The  men,  however,  were  well 
supjdied  witli  guns,  powder,  and  lead,  and  tliey  seem  to  have 
found  soiue  means  of  barricading  the  windows.  When  the 
enemy  tried  to  break  in,  they  drove  tliem  back  with  loss. 
On  this,  the  Frencli  and  lu'liaus  gathered  in  great  numl)ers 
before  the  liouse,  showered  bullets  upon  it,  and  tried  to  set 
it  on  fire.  T'liey  were  again  rei)ulsed,  with  the  loss  of  sev- 
eral killed  and  wounded ;  among  the  former  a  Caughnawaga 
chief,  and  among  the  latter  a  French  officer.  Still  the  filing 
continued.  If  the  assailants  had  made  a  resolute  assault, 
the  defenders  must  have  been  overpowered ;  but  to  risk  lives 
in  open  attack  was  contrary  to  every  maxim  of  forest  war- 


■ti 


2/8  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1704 

fare.  The  woiiu-ii  in  the  house  b-haved  with  great  cimrase, 
ami  moulded  luillets,  which  the  nieu  shot  at  the  eneiiiv. 
Stebhins  was  killed  outrif^lit,  and  Chuieh  was  wounded,  as 
was  also  the  wife  of  David  Hoyt.  At  lenj^th  most  of  the 
French  and  Indians,  disj^usted  with  the  obstinacy  of  the 
defence,  turned  their  attention  to  other  (juarters ;  thougli 
some  kept  u\>  their  fire  under  cover  of  the  meeling-hcjuse 
and  another  l)uilding  within  easy  range  of  gunslutt. 

'I'liis  building  was  the  house  of   Ensign  .John  Sheldon, 
already  mentioned.      The  Indians  had  had   some  ditliculty 
in  mastering  it;  for  the   door   beuig  of   thick   oak  plank, 
studiled  witli  nails  of  wrought  iron  and  well  l)arred,  thev 
could  not  break  it  open.    After  a  time,  however,  tliey  hacked 
a  hole  in  it,  tlirough  which  they  tired  and  killed  Mrs.  Shel- 
don as  she  sat  on  the  edge  of  a  bed  in  a  lower  room.     Her 
husband,  a  man   of  great   resolution,  seems  to  have   been 
absent.     Their  son   John,  with  Hannah   his   wife,  jumiHid 
from    an    upper   chamlier    window.      The    young    woman 
sprained  her  ankle  in  the  fall,  and  lay  hel^jless,  but  begged 
her  husband  to  run  to  Hatfield  for  aid,  whicli  he  did,  while 
she  remained  a  prisoner.      The  Indians   soon  got  in  at  a 
back  door,  seized  Mercy  Sheldon,  a  little  girl  of  two  years, 
and  dashed  out  her   brains   on   the   door-stone.     Her   two 
brothers  and  her  sister  Mary,  a  girl  of  sixteen,  were  caj)- 
tured.     The   house   was  used  for  a  short  time   as  a  dejHit 
for    prisoners,   and    here    also    was    brought    the    French 
officer  wounded  in  the  attack  on  the  Stebbins  house.     A 
family  tradition  relates  that  as  he  lay  in  great  torment  he 
begged  for  water,  and  that  it  was  brought  him  by  one  of  the 
prisoners,  ^frs.  John  Catlin,  wliose  husband,  son,  and  infant 
grandson  had  been  killed,  and  who,  nevertheless,  did  all  in 
her  power  to   relieve  the  sufferings  of  the  ■  -ounded  man. 


1704]  The  Attack  on  Deerfield  279 

I'lobably  it  was  in  reongnitiim  i»f  this  charity  that  whon  the 
other  prisimers  were  led  away,  Mrs.  Catlin  was  left  behind. 
She  died  of  grief  a  few  weeks  later. 

The  sun  was  scarcely  an  hour  hif];h  wlien  the  miserable 
drove  of  captives  was  conducted  across  the  river  to  the  f(;ot 
«tf  a  mountain  or  hijfh  hill.  Williams  and  his  family  were 
soon  c(jmpelled  to  follow,  and  his  house  was  set  on  tire.  As 
they  led  him  off  he  saw  that  other  houses  within  the 
palisade  were  burning,  and  that  all  were  in  the  power  of 
the  enemy  except  that  of  his  neighbor  Stebbins,  wheie  the 
gallant  defenders  still  kept  their  assailants  at  bay.  Having 
collected  all  their  prisoners,  the  main  body  of  the  French 
and  Indians  began  to  withdraw  towards  the  pine  forest, 
where  they  had  left  their  packs  and  snow-shoes,  and  to 
prepare  for  a  retreat  before  the  ct)untry  should  be  roused, 
first  murdering  in  cold  blood  Marah  Carter,  a  little  girl  of 
five  years,  whom  they  probably  thought  unequal  to  the 
march.  Several  parties,  however,  still  lingered  in  the  vil- 
lage, firing  on  the  Steblnns  house,  killing  cattle,  hogs,  and 
sheep,  and  gathering  siich  plunder  as  the  place  afforded. 

Early  in  the  attack,  and  while  it  was  yet  dark,  the  light 
of  burning  houses,  reflected  from  the  fields  of  snow,  had 
been  seen  at  Hatfield,  Hadley,  and  Northampton.  The 
alarm  was  sounded  through  the  slumbering  hamlets,  and 
parties  of  men  mounted  on  farm-horses,  with  saddles  or 
without,  hastened  to  the  rescue,  not  doul)ting  that  the  fires 
were  kindled  by  Indians.  When  the  sun  was  about  two 
hours  high,  between  thirty  and  forty  of  them  were  gathered 
at  the  fortified  house  of  Jonathan  Wells,  at  the  southern 
end  of  the  'ige.  The  houses  of  this  neighborhood  were 
still  standing,  and  seem  not  to  liave  been  attacked;  the 
stubborn  defence  of  the  Stebbins  house  having  apparently 


m 


280  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1704 

l»rovcute»l  the  enemy  fntm  pu.sliinj;  much  Itcyom)  the  pali- 
c  .  .  enclosure.  The  hduse  of  Wells  was  full  of  refugee 
iamilies.  A  few  DeeiKeld  men  here  joineil  the  horsemen 
from  the  h)wer  towns,  as  also  did  four  or  five  of  the  yeoman 
soldiers  who  had  esca{ied  the  fate  of  most  of  their  eomrades. 
The  horsemen  left  their  horses  within  Wells's  fence ;  he 
himself  took  the  lead,  and  the  whole  party  rushed  in  to- 
gether at  the  southern  gate  of  the  palisaded  enclosure,  drove 
out  the  plunderers,  and  retook  a  part  of  their  plunder.  The 
assailants  of  the  Steb])ins  house,  after  firing  at  it  for  three 
Iiours,  were  ])Ut  to  flight,  and  those  of  its  male  occupants 
who  were  still  alive  joined  their  countrymen,  while  the 
women  and  children  ran  hack  for  liarborage  to  the  house 
of  Wells. 

Wells  and  liis  men,  now  upwards  of  fifty,  drove  the  flying 
enemy  more  th.an  a  mile  across  the  river  meadow.s,  and  ran 
in  headh)ng  p""suit  over  the  crusted  .snow,  killing  a  consider- 
ahle  number.  In  the  eagerness  of  the  chase  many  threw 
ofT  their  overcoats,  and  even  their  jackets.  Wells  saw  the 
danger,  and  vainly  called  on  them  to  stop.  Their  blood 
was  up,  and  most  of  them  were  y<nuig  and  inexperienced. 

Meanwhile  the  tiring  at  the  village  had  been  heard  by 
Rouville's  main  body,  who  had  already  liegun  their  retreat 
northward.  They  turned  back  to  support  their  comrades, 
and  hid  themselves  under  the  bank  of  the  river  till  the 
pursuers  drew  near,  when  they  gave  them  a  close  volley  and 
rushed  ui)on  them  with  the  war-whoop.  Some  of  the  Kiiglish 
were  shot  down,  and  the  rest  driven  back.  There  was  no 
panic.  "  We  retreated,"  says  Wells,  "  facing  about  and 
firing."  When  they  reached  the  palisade  they  made  a  final 
stand,  covering  by  their  fire  such  of  their  c(jmrades  as  had 
fallen  within  range  of  musket-shot,  and  thus  saving  them 


1704] 


The  Attack  on  Deerfield 


281 


from  the  scalping-knife.  The  French  did  not  try  to  disludge 
them.  Nixie  of  thera  Jiad  been  killed,  several  were  wounded, 
and  one  was  cuptured. 

The  nuniher  of  English  oarrieil  off  prisoners  was  one 
hundred  and  eleven,  and  the  number  killed  was  acconling 
to  t)ue  list  forty-seven,  and  according  to  another  fifty-three, 
the  latter  including  some  who  were  smotl.  .cd  in  the  cellars 
of  their  burning  houses.  The  names,  and  in  most  cases  tlie 
ages,  of  both  captives  and  slain  are  preserveil.  Those  who 
escaj)ed  with  life  and  freedom  were,  by  the  best  account,  one 
'iitidred  and  thirty-seven.  An  olliciul  tabular  statement, 
drawn  up  (m  tlie  spot,  sets  the  number  of  houses  burned  at 
seventeen.  The  house  of  the  town  clerk,  Thomas  French, 
escaped,  as  before  mentioned,  and  tlie  town  records,  with 
other  paiKirs  in  his  charge,  were  saved.  The  meeting-house 
also  was  left  standing.  The  house  of  Sheldon  was  hastily 
sol  on  lire  by  the  French  and  Indians  when  their  rear  was 
driven  out  of  the  viUage  by  Wells  and  his  men;  but  the 
Hrc!  was  extinguished,  and  "the  OKI  Indian  House,"  as  it 
was  called,  stood  till  the  year  184!).  Its  door,  deeply  scarred 
with  Imtchets,  and  with  a  hole  cut  near  the  middle,  is  still 
preserved  in  the  Memorial  Hall  at  Deertield. 

Vaudreuil  wrote  to  the  minister,  I'onchartrain,  that  the 
Frenclx  lost  two  or  three  killed,  aiitl  twenty  or  twenty-one 
wounded,  Roiiville  himself  being  among  the  latter.  This 
cannot  include  the  Indians,  since  there  is  proof  that  the 
enemy  left  behind  a  consideralde  number  of  their  dead. 
Wherever  resistance  was  pctssible,  it  had  been  of  the  most 
prompt  and  determined  character. 

Long  before  noon  the  French  and  Indians  were  on  their 
northward  marc-h  with  their  train  of  captives.  More  armed 
men  came  up  from  the  settlements  below,  and  by  midnight 


282  The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent  I1704 

about  eighty  were  gathered  at  tlie  ruined  viUage.  Couriers 
Imd  heeii  seut  to  rouse  the  country,  and  before  evening  of 
tlie  next  day  (the  tiwt  of  Murcli)  the  force  at  DeerHeld  was 
increased  to  two  hundred  and  tifty ;  but  a  thaw  and  a  warm 
rain  hatl  set  in,  and  as  few  of  the  men  had  snow-shoes, 
pursuit  was  out  of  the  (juestion.  Kven  could  the  agile 
savages  and  tlieir  allies  have  been  overtaken,  tlie  probable 
consequence  would  have  been  the  nuudering  of  the  captives 
to  prevent  their  escajK;. 

In  s])ite  of  the  foul  blow  dealt  upon  it,  iKrrlield  was  not 
abandoned.  Such  of  its  men  as  were  left  were  token  as 
soldiers  into  the  pay  of  the  jirovince,  while  the  women  and 
children  were  sent  to  the  villages  Indow.  A  small  garris(.n 
was  also  stationed  at  the  sjiot,  under  command  of  Captain 
Jonathan  Wells,  and  thus  the  village  held  its  grouml  till 
the  storm  of  war  should  pass  over. 

We  have  seen  that  the  minister,  Williams,  with  his  wife 
and  family  were  led  from  their  burning  house  across  the 
river  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  where  the  crowd  of  terrified 
and  di.sconsolatc  captives  —  friemls,  neighbors,  and  relatives 
—  were  already  gathered.  Here  they  {iresently  saw  the 
fight  in  the  meadow,  and  were  told  that  if  tlieir  countrymen 
attempted  a  rescue,  they  should  all  be  put  to  death.  "  After 
this,"  writes  Williams,  "  we  went  up  the  mountain,  and  saw 
the  smoke  of  the  fires  in  town,  and  beheld  the  awful  desola- 
tion of  Deerfield ;  and  before  we  marched  any  farther  they 
killed  a  sucking  child  of  the  English." 

The  French  and  Indians  marched  that  afternoon  only  four 
or  five  miles,  —  to  Greenfield  meadows,  —  where  they  stopped 
to  encamp,  dug  away  the  snow,  laid  spruce-boughs  on  the 
ground  for  beds,  and  bound  fast  such  of  the  prisoners  as 
seemed  able  to  escape.     The  Indians  then  held  a  carousal 


1 7041 


The  Attack  on  Deerfield 


(til  some  liiiuor  they  hail  foiiiul  in  the  village,  and  in  their 
iliunkon  rage  niurdered  a  negro  man  belonging  to  Williams. 
In  spite  of  their  precautions,  Josejih  Alexamler,  one  of  the 
prisoners,  escai»ed  during  the  night,  at  which  they  were 
greatly  incensed  ;  and  l!ouville  ordered  Williams  to  tell  his 
companions  in  misfortune  tliat  if  any  more  of  them  ran  oil", 
the  rest  should  be  burned  alive. 

The  jirisoners  were  the  property  of  tliose  who  had  taken 
them.     Williams  had   two  masters;  one  of  the  three  who 
had  seized  him  having  been  shot  in  the  attark  on  the  house 
of  Stebbins.     His  principal  ownor  was  a  suily  fellow  who 
Would  not  let  him  speak  to  the  other  prisoners ;  but  as  he 
was  presently  chosen  to  guard  the  rear,  the  minister  was  left 
in  the  hands  of  his  other  n     'er,  who  allowed  him  to  walk 
beside  his  wife  and  help  he.     n  the  way.     Having  borne  a 
child  a  few  weeks  before,  she  was  in  no  condition  for  such  a 
march,  and  felt  that  her  hour  was  near.     Williams  sjieaks  of 
her  '"n  the  strongest  terms  of  affection.     She  made  n(j  com- 
])laint,  and  accepted  her  fate  with  resignali  ai.     "  We  dis- 
coursed," he  says,  "  of  the  happiness  of  those  who  had  (Jod  for 
a  father  and  friend,  as  also  that  it  was  our  reasonable  duly 
quietly  to  submit  to  His  will."     Her  tlioughts  were  for  her 
remaining  children,  whom  she  commended  to  her  husband's 
care.     Their  intercour.se   was  short.     The  Indian  who  had 
gone  to  the  rear  of  the  train  .soon  returned,  separated  them, 
ordered  Williams  to  the  front,  "  and  so  made  me  take  a  last 
farewell  of  my  dear  wife,  the  desire  of  my  eyes  and  com- 
panion in  many  mercies  and  afHictions."     They  came  soon 
after  to  Green  River,  a  streanj  then  about  knee-deep,  and 
so  swift  that  the   water  had  not  frozen.     After  wading  it 
with   difificulty,  they  climbed  a  snow-covered   hill   beyond. 
The  minister,  with  strength  almost  spent,  was  permitted  to 


Hjau_ 


284  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1704 

rest  a  few  moments  at  the  top ;  and  as  the  other  prisoners 
passed  by  in  turn,  he  (questioned  each  for  news  (jf  his  wife. 
He  wa«  "'tt  left  long  in  suspense.  She  liad  fallen  from 
wet  :; '.ess  111  fLnTng  ihe  stream,  but  gained  her  feet  again, 
and  di.'nciied  ii.  the  icy  current,  struggled  to  the  farther 
ban.-  v'len  the  savage  who  owned  her,  finding  that  she 
could  not  elim'u  the  hill,  killed  her  with  one  stroke  of  his 
hatchet.  Her  body  was  left  on  the  snow  till  a  few  of  her 
to  vusmeu,  who  had  followed  the  trail,  fouml  it  a  day  or  two 
after,  carried  it  back  to  Deertield,  and  buried  it  in  the 
churchyard. 

On  the  next  day  the  Indians  killed  an  infant  and  a  little 
girl  of  eleven  years  ;  on  the  day  following,  Friday,  they 
tomahawked  a  woman,  and  on  Saturday  four  others.  This 
ajiparent  cruelty  was  in  fact  a  kind  of  mercy.  The  victims 
could  not  keep  up  with  the  iiarly,  and  the  death-blow  saved 
them  from  a  lonely  and  lingering  death  from  cidd  and  star- 
vation. Home  of  the  children,  when  spent  witli  the  march, 
were  carried  on  the  Ijacks  of  their  owners, —  partly,  perhaps, 
through  kindness,  and  partly  because  every  child  had  its 
price. 

On  the  fourth  day  of  tlie  march  they  came  to  the  moiuh 
of  West  Itiver,  which  enters  the  Connecticut  a  little  aliove 
the  present  town  of  liratlleboro'.  St-me  of  the  Indians  were 
discontented  with  the  distributitjn  of  the  captives,  alleging 
that  others  had  got  more  than  their  share;  on  whicli  the 
wliole  troop  were  mustered  together,  and  some  changes  of 
owneiBhip  were  agreed  ujHJn.  At  this  place,  dog-trains  and 
sledges  had  been  left,  aiul  these  served  to  carry  their  wounded, 
as  well  as  some  of  the  captive  children.  Williams  was 
stripped  of  the  better  part  of  his  clothes,  and  others  given 
him  instead,  so  full  of  vermin  that  they  were  a  torment  to 


s^: 


Till;  IU;iiRX   H!(>M  I)eki!I|i;m>. 


m 

,»i 

*"■■,; 

1704] 


The  Attack  on  Deerfield 


285 


liim  through  all  the  journey.  The  march  now  continued 
with  pitiless  speed  up  the  frozen  Connecticut,  where  the 
recent  thaw  had  covered  the  ice  with  slush  and  water  ankle- 
deep. 

On  Sunday  they  made  a  halt,  and  the  minister  was  per- 
mitted to  preach  a  sermon  from  the  text,  "  Hear,  all  people, 
and  behold  my  sorrow :  my  virgins  and  my  young  men  are 
gone  into  captivity."  Then  amid  the  ice,  the  snow,  the 
forest,  and  the  savages,  his  forlorn  flock  joined  their  voices 
in  a  psalm.  On  Monday,  guns  were  heard  from  the  rear, 
and  the  Indians  and  their  allies,  in  great  alann,  bound  their 
prisoners  fast,  and  prepared  for  battle.  It  proved,  however, 
that  the  guns  had  been  tired  at  wild  geese  by  some  of  their 
own  number;  on  which  they  recovered  their  spirits,  fired  a 
volley  for  joy,  and  boasted  that  the  English  could  not  over- 
take them.  !More  women  fainted  by  the  way  and  died 
under  the  hatchet,  —  some  with  pious  resignation,  some  with 
despairing  apathy,  some  with  a  desperate  joy. 

Two  hundred  miles  of  wilderness  still  lay  between  them 
and  the  Canadian  settlements.  It  was  a  waste  without  a 
house  or  even  a  wigwam ;  except  here  and  there  the  bark 
shed  of  some  savage  hunter.  At  the  mouth  of  White  River, 
the  party  divided  into  small  bands,  —  no  doubt  in  order  to 
subsist  by  hunting,  for  provisions  were  fast  failing.  The 
Williams  family  were  separated.  Stephen  was  carried  up 
the  Connecticut;  Samuel  and  Eunice,  with  two  younger 
children,  were  carried  off  in  various  directions;  while  the 
wretched  father,  along  with  two  small  children  of  one  of  his 
parishioners,  was  compelled  to  follow  his  Indian  masters  up 
the  valley  of  White  River.  One  of  the  children  —  a  little 
girl  —  was  killed  on  the  next  morning  by  her  Caughna- 
waga  owner,  who  was  unable  to  carry  her.     On  the  next 


mm 


286  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1704 

Sunday,  the  minister  was  left  in  camp  witli  one  Indian  and 
tlie  surviving  child,  —  a  hoy  of  nine,  —  while  the  rest  of  the 
party  were  hunting.  "  My  spirit,"  he  says,"  was  almost  over- 
whelmed within  me."  But  he  found  comfort  in  the  text, 
"  Leave  thy  fatherless  children,  1  will  preserve  them  alive." 
Nor  was  his  hope  deceived.  His  youngest  surviving  cliild,  — 
a  hoy  of  four,  —  though  harshly  treated  by  his  owners,  was 
cairied  on  their  shoulders  or  diagged  on  a  sledge  to  the  end 
of  the  journej'.  His  youngest  daughter  —  seven  years  old 
—  was  treated  with  great  kindness  throughout.  Samuel  and 
Eunice  suffered  much  from  hunger,  but  were  dragged  on 
sledges  wlien  too  faint  to  walk.  8te])hen  nearly  starved 
to  death ;  but  after  eight  months  in  the  forest,  he  safely 
reached  Chambly  with  his  Indian  masters. 

Of  the  whole  band  of  captives,  only  about  half  ever  again 
saw  friends  and  home. 


■SI 


1724] 


Lovewell's  Fight 


2S7 


LO\^^\^:LL•s  fight* 


Out  of  the  lieart  of  the  White  Mountains  springs  the  river 
Saco,  fed  b)  the  bright  cascades  that  leap  from  the  crags  of 
iMoiint  Webster,  brawling  among  rocks  and  bowlders  down 
the  great  Jetile  of  the  Crawford  Xotch.  winding  through  the 
forests  and  intervales  of  Conway,  then  circling  northward  by 
the  village  of  Fryeburg  in  devious  wanderings  by  meadows, 
woods,  and  mountains,  and  at  last  turning  eastward  and 
southward  to  join  the  sea. 

On  the  banks  of  this  erratic  stream  lived  an  Abenaki  tril)e 
called  the  Sokokis.  When  the  first  white  man  visited  the 
country,  these  Indians  lived  at  the  Falls,  a  few  miles  from 
the  mouth  of  the  river.  They  retired  before  the  Englisli 
settler. ,  lad  either  joined  their  kindred  in  Maine,  o"  migrated 
to  St.  Francis  and  other  Abenaki  settlements  in  Canada;  but 
a  Sokoki  band  called  Pigwackets,  or  Peijuawkets,  st'.ll  kept 
its  place  far  in  the  interior,  on  the  upper  waters  of  the  Saco, 
near  Fine  Hill,  in  the  present  town  of  Fryeburg.  Except  a 
small  band  of  their  near  kindred  on  Lake  Ossipee,  they  were 
the  only  human  tenants  of  a  wilderness  many  thousand 
square  miles  in  extent.  In  their  wild  and  remote  abode  tliey 
were  difficult  of  access,  and  the  forest  and  the  river  were  well 
stocked  with  moose,  deer,  bear,  beaver,  otter,  lynx,  fisher, 
mink,  and  marten.  In  this,  their  happy  hunting-gro  d, 
the  Pequawkets  thouglit  themselves  safe,  and  they  would 
have  been  so  for  some  time  longer  if  they  had  not  taken  up 

»  A  Half  Century  of  Conflict,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  XI. 


I  Ma' 


;lf 


•     ! 
i    i 


2S8  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1724 

the  4uarrel  nf  ilie  Nnniilirewocks  and  made  bloody  raids 
;t},faiiisl  tlu'  Kii<;lisli  border,  under  their  war-chief,  rau<f us. 

Not  far  from  where  their  wigwams  stuod  clustered  in  a  bend 
of  the  ^iu-o  WHS  the  small  lake  now  called  Lovewell's  Pond, 
named  ftjr  John  Lovewell  of  Dunstable,  a  Massachusetts 
tiiwn  on  the  }  v  Hampshire  line.  Lovewell's  father,  a 
|>ers(in  of  conside  ion  in  the  village,  where  he  owned  a 
"garrison  house,"  had  served  in  I'liilip's  War,  and  taken  part 
in  tiie  famous  Narragunsett  Swamii  Fight.  The  younger 
Lovewtdi,  now  about  thirty-three  years  of  age,  lived  with  his 
wife,  Hannah,  and  two  or  three  chiMren  on  a  farm  of  two 
hundred  acres.  Tlie  inventory  of  his  effects,  made  after  his 
death,  includes  five  <ir  six  cattle,  one  mare,  twtt  steel  traps 
with  chains,  a  gun,  two  or  three  books,  a  feather-bed  and 
"under-bed,"  or  mattress,  along  with  sundry  tools,  pots, 
barrels,  chests,  tubs,  and  the  like,  —  the  equipment,  in  short, 
of  a  decent  frontier  yeoman  of  the  time.  But  being,  like 
the  tough  veteran,  his  father,  of  a  bold  and  adventurous 
disposition,  he  seems  to  have  been  less  given  to  farming 
than  to  hunting  and  bush-lighting. 

Dunstalile  was  attacked  by  Indians  in  the  autumn  of 
1724,  and  two  men  were  carried  oil'.  Ten  others  went  in 
]iursuit,  but  fell  into  an  ambusli,  and  nearly  all  were  killed, 
Josiah  Farwtdl,  Lovewell's  brother-in-law,  being,  by  some 
accounts,  the  only  one  who  escajied.  Soon  after  this,  a  peti- 
tion, styled  a  "Humble  ^lemorial,"  was  laid  before  the 
House  of  Iteprcsentatives  at  Boston,  It  declares  that  in 
order  "  to  kill  and  destroy  their  enemy  Indians,"  the  peti- 
tioners and  forty  or  lifty  others  are  ready  to  spend  one  whole 
year  in  hunting  them,  "  ]irovided  they  can  meet  with  En- 
e>mragement  suitalile."  The  ]ietition  is  .signed  by  John 
Lovewell,  Josiah   Farwell,  and   Jonathan   Robbins,  all   of 


17*4] 


Lovewell's  Fight 


189 


Duustalik',  Liivt'weir.s  name  liciii^  wrll  wiiilt'ii,  and  llu- 
(itliLTs  alier  a  cramped  and  unaccustomed  fashion.  The  rep- 
resentatives accepted  the  proposal  and  voted  to  [;ive  each 
adventurer  two  shillings  and  sixpence  a  day,  —  then  eipial 
in  Massachusetts  currency  to  about  one  Knglish  shilling', — 
out  of  which  lie  was  to  muintain  himself.  The  men  were, 
in  addition,  [H'omised  large  rewards  for  the  scalps  of  male 
Indians  old  enough  to  tight. 

A  company  of  thirty  was  soon  raised.  Lovewell  was 
cliosen  captain,  Farwell,  lieutenant,  and  Ilohhins,  ensign. 
They  set  out  towards  the  end  of  Xoveniiter,  and  reappeared 
at  Dunstable  early  in  January,  bringing  one  prisoner  and 
one  scalp.  Towards  the  end  of  the  month  Lovcwell  set  out 
again,  this  time  with  eighty-seven  men,  gathered  from  the 
villages  of  Dunstable,  (Sroton,  Lancaster,  Haverhill,  and 
liillerica.  They  ascended  the  frozen  ^lerrimac,  passed  Lake 
Winnepesaukee,  pushed  nearly  to  the  White  Mountains,  and 
encamped  on  a  branch  of  the  up'»er  Saco.  Here  they  killed 
a  moose,  —  a  timely  piece  of  luck,  for  they  were  in  danger 
of  starvation,  and  Lovewell  had  been  compelled  by  want  of 
food  to  send  back  a  good  number  of  his  men.  The  rest  held 
their  way,  filing  on  snow-shoes  through  the  deathlike  soli- 
tude that  gave  no  sign  of  life  except  the  light  track  of  some 
squirrel  on  the  snow,  and  the  brisk  note  of  the  hartly  little 
chickadee,  or  black  capped  titmouse,  so  familiar  to  tlie  winter 
woods.  Thus  far  the  scouts  had  seen  no  human  footprint ;  but 
ou  the  twentieth  of  February  they  found  a  lately  abandoned 
wigwam,  and  ft)llowing  the  snow-shoe  tracks  that  led  from  it, 
at  length  saw  smoke  rising  at  a  distance  out  of  the  gray 
forest.  Tlie  party  lay  close  till  two  o'clock  in  the  morning ; 
then  cautiously  approached,  found   one  or   more  wigwams, 

surrounded  them,  and  killed  all  the  inmates,  ten  in  number. 

19 


h    i 


290  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1714 

Tlu'v  wiTO  \vaiTii)r.s  fnmi  Caiiiulii  t'li  a  winter  raid  auaiiisL 
the  borders.  Lovowell  ami  his  men,  it  will  be  seen,  were 
much  like  hunters  of  wolves,  eataniounls,  «)r  other  dangerous 
beasts,  except  that  the  chase  of  this  fierce  and  wily  human 
game  demanded  far  more  liardihood  and  skill. 

They  brought  home  the  scalps  in  triumph,  together  with 
the  blankets  and  the  new  guns  furnished  to  the  slain  warriors 
by  their  Canadian  friends;  and  Lovewell  began  at  once  to 
gather  men  for  another  lunit.  The  busy  season  of  the  farm- 
ers was  at  hand,  and  volunteers  came  hi  less  freely  than 
before.  At  the  middle  of  April,  hcjwever,  lie  had  laised  a 
band  of  forty-six,  of  whom  he  was  the  captain,  wilh  FarweK 
and  Jiobbins  as  his  lieutenants.  Though  they  were  all  reg- 
ularly commissioned  by  the  governor,  they  were  leaders 
rather  than  commanders,  for  they  and  their  men  were  neigh- 
bors or  acfpi.iintances  on  terms  of  entire  social  equality. 
Two  of  the  number  recpiire  mention.  One  was  Seth  Wyman, 
of  Woburn,  an  ensign,  and  the  other  was  Jonathan  Frye,  of 
Andover,  the  chai)lain,  a  youth  of  twenty-<jne,  graduated  at 
Harvard  College  in  1723,  and  now  a  student  of  theology. 
Chaiilain  though  he  was,  he  carried  a  gun,  knife,  and  hatchet 
like  the  others,  and  not  one  of  the  party  was  more  prompt 
to  use  them. 

They  began  their  march  on  April  J  5th.  A  few  days  after- 
wards, one  William  Cummings,  of  Dunstable,  became  so 
disabled  by  the  effects  of  a  wound  received  from  Indians 
some  time  before,  that  he  could  not  keep  on  with  the  rest, 
and  Lovewell  sent  him  back  in  charge  of  a  kinsman,  thus 
reducing  their  number  to  forty-four.  "When  they  reached 
the  west  shore  of  Lake  Ossipee,  Benjamin  Kidder,  of  Nut- 
fitld,  fell  seriously  ilL  To  leave  him  defenceless  in  a  place 
so  dangerous  was  not  to  be  thought  of ;  and  his  comrades 


I7»4] 


Lovewell's  Fight 


?9i 


luiilL  a  small  fi>rl,  or  jialisatU'il  log-t-aliin,  iirar  the  water, 
wlii-re  tln'y  li'I't  I  ho  nick  Jiiaii  in  chur^f  <if  the  .surj^eoii,  to- 
{Xcllior  with  Serj^eaut  Woods  and  a  guard  of  seven  men. 
The  rest,  now  reduced  to  thirty-four,  continued  their  march 
throuj^h  the  forest  northeastward  towards  lV(juawket,  while 
the  savaj^e  heiglits  of  the  White  Mountains,  still  covered 
with  snow,  rose  above  the  dismal,  bare  forests  ou  their  left. 
They  seem  to  have  crossed  the  Saco  just  beh>w  the  site  of 
Kryeburj,',  and  in  the  nijfht  of  May  7tli,  as  they  lay  in  the 
woods  near  the  northeast  end  of  Lovewell's  Pond,  the  men 
on  guard  heard  sounds  like  Indians  prowling  about  them. 
At  dayureak  the  next  morning,  as  they  stood  bareheaded, 
listening  to  a  prayer  from  the  young  chaplain,  tliey  heaid 
tlie  report  of  a  gim,  and  soon  after  discovered  an  Indian  on 
the  shore  of  the  pond  at  a  considerable  distance.  Apparently 
he  was  shooiuig  ducks;  but  Lovewell,  susjiecting  a  device  to 
lure  them  into  an  ambuscade,  asked  the  men  whether  they 
were  for  pushing  forward  or  fulling  l)ack,  and  with  one  voice 
they  called  upon  him  to  lead  them  on.  They  were  then  in 
a  piece  of  open  pine  w(X)ds  traversed  by  a  small  brook.  He 
ordered  them  to  lay  down  their  packs  and  advance  with  ex- 
treme caution.  They  had  moved  forward  for  some  time  in 
this  manner  when  they  met  an  Indian  coming  towards  them 
through  the  dense  trees  and  bushes.  He  no  sooner  saw  them 
than  he  fired  at  the  leading  men.  His  gun  was  charged 
with  beaver-.shot ;  but  he  was  so  near  his  mark  that  the 
effect  was  equal  to  that  of  a  bullet,  and  he  severely  wounded 
Lovewell  and  one  Whiting;  on  which  Seth  Wyman  shot 
him  dead,  and  the  chaplain  and  another  man  scalped  him. 
Lovewell,  though  believed  to  be  mortally  hurt,  was  still  able 
to  walk,  and  the  party  fell  back  to  the  place  where  they  had 
left  their  packs.     The  packs  had  disappeared,  and  suddenly, 


292  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1724 

wiili  I'lijililfiil  yi'll.-,  t!ie  wlmle  Imdy  of  the  Peij  ii.wkct  \v;ir- 
riurs  nisliL'd  I'mm  their  hidhiu-iilacx'.-*,  tiiiiijf  a.s  they  cuiuo  on. 
Tlie  .su''vivi>is  say  that  they  witc  nii'K!  than  Iwici;  the  initn- 
her  i)f  the  ..  Iiitcs.  —  which  i>  |iii>l>ahly  an  cxajjjferatiuii, 
th.tufih  their  (■(iniiurt.  su  uriiisiial  with  Indians,  in  nisliing 
forwaiil  iiisteail  til'  liriiij^  tVum  ilieir  anihiish,  sln»ws  a  re- 
niarkal'k'  i'iinti(U'n<'e  in  their  rnmiencal  stren<flli.  Thty  no 
tlciiiht  i'.\|iecled  {>>  strike  their  eneniifs  with  a  paiiie.  Love- 
well  received  another  iiiMital  wound  ;  hut  he  tired  more  than 
once  on  the  Indians  as  he  la\- dyin^.  His  two  lieutenants, 
Karwell  and  Ifoliliins,  wcrt'  also  hailly  hurt.  Ki'^dii  others 
fell:  hut  the  rest  stood  their  jiround,  and  ]Hisheilthe  Indians 
so  hard  that  they  ilrove.theiii  hack  to  cover  with  heavy  loss. 
One  man  |ilayi'd  the  coward,  Ilenjanun  Hassell,  of  Dnn- 
stahle,  who  ran  oil',  escaped  in  the  confusion,  and  made  w  ih 
his  iicst  speed  for  the  fori  at  Lake  Ossipee. 

The  situation  of  the  jiarty  was  desjierate,  and  nothint? 
saved  them  from  de-itructioii  but  the  prom]>t  a<'iion  of  their 
surviviiii^  ollicers,  oidy  one  of  whoni,  Ensiifn  Wyman,  had 
escaped  unhurt.  It  was  jMohably  under  his  direction  that 
the  men  fell  back  steadily  to  the  shore  of  the  pond,  which 
was  only  a  few  rods  distant.  Here  the  water  protected  their 
rear,  so  that  they  could  not  be  surrounded;  and  now  fol- 
lowed one  of  the  most  obstinate  and  deadly  bush-fijihts  in  the 
annals  of  New  P'njfland.  It  was  about  ten  o'clock  when 
the  tight  began,  and  it  lasted  till  night.  The  Indians  had 
the  gieater  a<,nlity  and  skill  in  hiding  and  sheltering  them- 
selves, and  th.e  whites  the  greater  steadiness  and  coolness  in 
using  their  guns.  They  fought  in  the  shade;  for  the  forest 
was  dense,  and  all  alike  eovered  themselves  as  they  best 
could  behind  ti'ees,  bushes,  or  fallen  trunks,  where  each  man 
crouched  with  eyes  and  mind  intent,  firing  whenever  he  saw. 


1784)  Lovcwell's  Fight  293 

or  iliuiijilii  lie  saw,  tilt'  lit-ad,  limbs,  or  Imtly  <'f  an  eueniy 
fX^Mistnl  to  sij^lil  I'M-  an  iiislanl.  Tlif  Imliaiis  howled  like 
wolves,  ycllt'il  like  «'iiraji;i'il  cuuguis,  and  made  the  forest  rinjj 
with  their  whoops;  while  the  whiles  replicil  with  sluaits 
ami  cheers.  At  one  lime  tin-  Imliuns  cfascd  tiring  and  tlrew 
hack  anionjr  the  trees  and  under«,'rowlh,  where,  hy  the  noise 
they  made,  they  seemed  to  be  holding  a  "  i>o\v-wuw,"  or  iii- 
(^antation  to  procure  victory  ;  hut  the  keen  and  fearh.  ^  Selh 
Wyman  crept  up  among  the  hushes,  shot  the  chief  conjurer, 
and  liroke  up  the  meeting.  Ahout  the  miildle  of  the  after- 
niMtn  vonnii  l'rv<  received  a  mortal  wound.  I'nable  to  tight 
longer,  lie  lay  in  his  blood,  praying  fronj  time  to  time  for  his 
comrades  in  a  faint  but  audible  voice. 

Sidomon  Keyes,  of  I'dllerica,  received  two  wounds,  but 
fought  on  till  a  third  shot  struck  him.  He  then  crawled  up 
to  Wyman  in  the  heat  of  the  fight,  and  told  him  that  he, 
Keyes,  was  a  dead  man,  but  that  the  Indians  should  not  get 
his  scalp  if  he  could  hel]>  it.  ('reei>ing  along  the  sandy  edge 
td"  the  ])ond,  he  chanced  to  find  a  stranded  canoe,  pushed  it 
atloat,  rolled  himself  into  it,  and  drifted  away  before  the  wind. 

Soon  after  sunset  the  Indians  drew  off  and  left  the  Held  to 
their  enemies,  living  and  dead,  not  even  stopping  to  scalp  the 
fallen,  —  a  remarkable  proof  of  the  completeness  of  their  dis- 
comfiture. Exhausted  with  fatigue  and  hunger,  —  for,  hav- 
ing lost  their  packs  in  the  morning,  they  had  no  food,  —  the 
surviving  white  men  explored  the  scene  of  the  fight.  Jacob 
Farrar  lay  gasping  his  last  by  the  edge  of  the  water.  Robert 
Usher  and  Lieutenant  Robbins  were  unable  to  move.  Of 
the  thirty-four  men,  nine  had  escaped  without  serious  injury 
eleven  were  badly  wounded,  and  the  rest  were  dead  or  dying, 
except  the  coward  who  had  run  ofT. 

About  midnight,  an  hour  or  more  before  the  setting  of  the 


'||"«ttiJj 


2Q4  'The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  r»7M 

riKMin,  (•iu'li  as  had  slifii^lli  in  walk  Ict'l  llic  j,'i(iiiiul.  I.'kIi- 
biris,  ns  he  hiy  hflphss,  a.skftl  (iiu«  i.f  ilifiii  to  Inail  his  ^1111, 
savin;,',  "  Tlie  Iiuliaiis  will  nimi'  in  ihf  iiiorniiiji  Insralfi  inc, 
nml  I  11  kill  another  of  'em  if  1  can."  They  loaileil  tlie  ^^un 
and  left  him. 

To  make  ont-'s  way  even  hy  daylight  ihinu^^h  the  .snares 
antl  |iilfalls  of  a  New  Kn<,dand  forest  is  often  a  dillicult  ta.sk  ; 
to  do  tio  in  the  darkness  of  nij,dit  and  overshadowing  liough.s, 
among  tiie  faHen  trees  and  the  .snarl  of  underbnish,  was 
wellnigli  impossiliU'.  Any  hut  the  most  .skilful  wood.smen 
woidd  liave  lost  their  way.  The  iiulians,  siek  of  lighting, 
did  not  molest  the  jiarty.  After  struggling  on  for  a  mile  or 
r'\?,  Fa: well,  Frye,  and  two  oilier  womuled  men,  Josiah 
.Fones  and  Fleazer  Davi;  1!  '  go  no  farther,  -  nd,  with  their 
consent,  the  others  left  tlieii.,  with  a  iiroinisc  »,o  semi  them 
lieljt  as  soon  as  iliey  should  reai-h  the  fort.  In  the  morning 
the  men  divided  into  several  small  hands,  the  hetter  to  elude 
pur-suit.  One  of  these  parties  was  tracked  for  some  time  hy 
the  Indian.-,  and  Klias  Ilarron,  liecoming  separated  from  his 
companions,  was  never  again  heard  of,  though  the  ca.se  of  his 
gun  was  afterwards  found  hy  the  hank  of  the  river  Ossipee. 

Kleven  of  the  number  at  length  reached  the  fort,  and  to 
their  amazement  found  noliody  there.  The  runaway,  Has- 
.sel,  had  arrived  many  hours  before  them,  and  to  excuse  his 
llight  told  so  frightful  a  storv  of  the  fate  of  his  comrades 
that  his  iiearers  were  seized  with  a  panic,  shamefully  aban- 
tloned  their  post,  and  set  out  for  the  settlements,  leaving  a 
writing  on  a  piece  of  lurch  bark  to  the  effect  that  all  the  rest 
were  killed.  They  had  left  a  su[)iily  of  bread  and  pork,  and 
while  the  famished  eleven  rested  and  refreshed  themselves 
they  were  joined  by  Solomon  Keyes,the  man  who,  after  being 
thrice  wounded,  had  floated  away  in  a  canoe  from  the  place 


vm/.MmMm^.m^''. 


295 


17241  Lovcwell's  Fight  -'vo 

uf  till-  light.  AfttT  tlriftiiij;  fur  u  rnii.sidfralili' tli^taiui-,  tin- 
wiiiil  liU'W  liiin  u.shoie,  wIrmi,  hjiihiviI  \>y  lu-cessily  anil  fecl- 
iiijj  hiinsflf  "  WKiulurfuliy  sliviij^llieiied,"  he  suci"t'e«k'(l  in 
jjaiiiiii};  the  fnit. 

Meanwhile  Frvo,  Farwrll,  and  their  two  wuumU'tl  c<iin- 
jtaniiin.H,  Davis  and  -ItUU's,  aftiT  waiting  vainly  for  tin-  «'X- 
]H'cted  help,  found  strength  to  struggle  forward  again,  till  the 
chaplain  stopju'd  and  lay  dmn,  I'egging  the  others  to  keep 
on  their  way,  and  saying  to  Davis,  "Tell  my  father  that  I 
exjH'ct  ifi  a  few  lioiu's  |o  be  in  eternity,  and  am  not  afraid  to 
die."  Thev  left  him,  and,  savs  the  old  narrative,  '•  he  iias 
not  been  heard  of  since."  lie  had  kept  the  journal  of  the 
expedition,  whieh  was  lost  wiu  him. 

Farwell  died  of  exhaustion.  The  remaining  two  lost 
their  way  and  became  separated.  After  wandering  eli-ven 
days,  Davis  reached  the  fort  at  T-ake  Ossipee,  and  Jinding 
food  there,  came  into  I'.erwick  on  the  27th.  Jones,  after 
fourteen  days  in  the  woods,  arrived,  half  dead,  at  the  village 
of  Iliddeford. 

Some  of  the  eleven  who  had  first  made  their  way  to  the 
fort,  together  with  Keyes,  who  joined  them  there,  came  into 
Dunstable  during  the  night  of  the  1.3th,  and  the  rest  followed 
one  or  two  days  later.  Kns^gn  Wyman,  who  was  now  the 
only  commissioned  ollicer  left  alive,  and  who  had  borne  him- 
self throughout  with  the  utmost  intrepidity,  decision,  and 
good  sense,  reached  the  same  place  along  with  three  other 
men  on  the  15th. 

The  runaway,  Hassell,  and  the  guard  at  the  fort,  whom  he 
had  infected  with  his  terror,  had  lost  no  time  in  making 
their  way  back  to  Dunstable,  which  they  seem  to  have 
reached  on  the  evening  of  the  11th.  Horsemen  were  sent  in 
haste  to  carry  the  doleful  news  to  Boston,  on  which  the 


296  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1724 

governor  gave  orders  to  Colonel  Tyng  of  the  militia,  who 
was  then  at  Dunstahle,  to  gatlier  men  in  the  Inirder  towns, 
march  with  all  speed  to  the  plaee  (»f  the  fight,  succor  the 
wountled  if  any  were  still  alive,  and  attack  the  Indians,  if  he 
couM  iind  them.  Tyng  called  iijion  Hassell  to  go  with  him 
as  a  guide  ;  hut  he  was  ill,  or  jiretended  to  be  so,  on  which 
one  of  the  men  who  had  been  in  the  light  and  had  just 
returned  offered  to  go  in  his  place. 

When  the  party  reached  the  scene  of  the  battle,  they  .law 
the  trees  jilentifully  scarred  with  bullets,  and  presently 
found  and  buried  the  bodies  of  Lovewell,  Kobbins,  and  ten 
others.  The  Indians,  after  their  usual  custom,  had  carried 
off  or  hidden  their  own  dead;  but  Tyng's  men  discovered 
three  of  them  buried  together,  and  one  of  these  was  recog- 
nized as  the  war-chief  Paugus,  killed  by  Wyman,  f)r,  accord- 
ing to  a  more  than  doubtful  tradition,  by  John  Chamberlain. 
Not  a  living  Indian  was  to  be  seen. 

The  I'equawkets  were  cowed  by  the  rough  handling  they 
had  met  when  they  plainly  expected  a  victory.  Some  of 
them  joined  their  Abenaki  kinsmen  in  Canada  and  remained 
there,  while  others  returueil  after  the  peace  to  their  old 
haunts  by  the  Saco ;  but  they  never  again  raised  the  hatchet 
against  the  English. 

Lovewell's  Pond,  with  its  sandy  beach,  its  two  green 
islands,  and  its  environment  of  lonely  forests,  reverted  for  a 
while  to  its  original  owners,  —  the  wolf,  bear,  lynx,  and  moose. 
In  our  day  all  is  changed.  Farms  and  dwellings  possess 
those  peaceful  shores,  and  hard  by,  where,  at  the  bend  of  the 
Saco,  unce  stood,  in  picturesipie  scjualor,  the  wigwams  of  the 
vanished  Petiuawkets,  the  village  of  Fryeburg  preserves 
the  name  of  the  brave  young  chaplain,  whose  memory  is  still 
cherished,  in  spite  of  his  uncanonical  turn  f     scalping. 


1726] 


The  Chain  of  Posts 


297 


THE  CHAIN   OF  POSTS » 


TiiK  eHtablislinieiit  Ity  the  En«^lish  cf  a  trading-post  at 
()s\ve<,'()  greatly  alarmed  and  incensed  the  French,  and  a 
council  of  war  at  Quebec  resolved  to  send  two  thousand  men 
against  it;  but  Vaudreuil's  successor,  the  Alaniuis  de  Beau- 
harnois,  learning  that  the  court  was  not  prepared  to  provoke 
a  war,  contented  himself  with  sending  a  summons  to  the  coni- 
nianding  ollicer  to  abandon  and  demolish  the  place  within  a 
fortnight.  To  this  no  attention  was  given;  and  as  Burnet 
had  ft)reseen,  Oswego  became  the  great  centre  of  Indian 
liatk',  while  Niagara,  in  spite  of  its  more  favorable  position, 
was  comparatively  slighted  by  the  western  tribes.  The  chief 
danger  rose  from  the  obstinate  prejudice  of  the  Assembly, 
which,  in  its  disputes  witli  the  royal  governor,  would  give 
him  neither  men  nor  money  to  defend  the  new  post. 

The  Canadian  authorities,  who  saw  in  Oswego  an  intrusion 
on  their  domain  and  a  constant  injury  and  menace,  could 
not  attack  it  without  bringing  on  a  war,  and  therefore  tried 
to  persuade  the  Five  Nations  to  destroy  it,  —  an  attempt 
which  completely  failed.  They  then  established  a  trad- 
ing-post at  Toronto,  in  the  vain  hojie  of  stopping  the  North- 
ern tribes  on  their  way  to  the  more  profitable  English 
market,  and  they  built  two  armed  vessels  at  Fort  Frontenac 
to  control  the  navigation  of  I^ake  Ontarit). 

Meanwhile,  in  another  (piarter  the  French  made  an  ad- 

»  A  Half  Century  of  Conflict,  Vol.  11.,  Ch.  XVII. 


298  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1731 

vance  far  more  threatening  to  the  English  colonies  than 
Oswego  was  to  their  own.  They  had  already  built  a  stone 
fort  at  Chanibly,  which  ct)vered  Alontreal  from  any  English 
attack  by  way  of  Lake  Champlain.  As  that  lake  was  the 
great  highway  between  the  rival  colonies,  the  importance  of 
gaining  full  mastery  of  it  was  evident.  It  was  rumored  in 
Canada  that  the  English  meant  to  seize  and  fortify  the  place 
called  Scalp  Point  {Poiute  il  la  C/ierclure)  by  the  French, 
and  Crown  Point  by  the  English,  where  the  lake  suddenly 
contracts  to  the  proporti«jns  of  a  liver,  so  that  a  few  cannon 
would  stop  the  passage. 

As  early  as  1726  the  French  made  an  attempt  to  establish 
themselves  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake  opposite  Crown  Point, 
but  were  deterred  by  the  opposition  of  Massachusetts.  This 
eastern  shore  was,  however,  claimed  not  only  by  Massachu- 
setts, but  by  her  neighbor,  Xew  Hampshire,  with  whom  she 
presently  fell  into  a  dispute  about  the  ownership,  and,  as  a 
writer  of  the  time  observes,  "  wliile  they  were  quarrelling 
for  tlie  bone,  the  French  ran  away  with  it." 

At  length,  in  1731,  the  French  took  post  on  the  western 
side  of  the  lake,  and  be;,an  to  intrench  themselves  at  Crown 
Point,  which  was  within  the  bounds  claimed  by  Xew  York; 
but  that  ])rovince,  being  then  engrossed,  not  only  by  lier 
clironic  dispute  with  her  governor,  but  by  a  quarrel  with 
her  next  neighbt)r.  New  Jersey,  slighted  the  danger  from  the 
common  enemy,  and  left  the  French  to  work  their  will.  It 
was  Saint-Luc  de  la  Corne,  Lieutenant  du  Roy  at  Montreal, 
who  pointed  out  the  necessity  of  fortifying  (his  place,  in 
order  to  anticipate  the  English,  who,  as  he  imagined,  were 
about  to  do  so, —  a  danger  which  was  jtrobablynot  imminent, 
since  the  English  colonies,  as  a  whole,  could  not  and  would 
not  unite  for  such  a  purpose,  while  the  individual  provinces 


1731]  The  Chain  of  Posts  299 

were  too  much  absorbed  in  their  own  internal  affairs  and 
their  own  jealousies  and  disputes  to  make  the  attempt.  La 
Corne's  suggestion  found  favor  at  court,  and  the  Governor  of 
Canada  was  ordered  to  occupy  Crown  Point.  The  Sieur  de 
la  Fresnifere  was  sent  thither  with  troops  and  workmen,  and 
a  fort  was  built,  and  named  Fort  Fr^d^ric.  It  contained  a 
massive  stone  tower,  mounted  with  cannon  to  command  the 
lake,  which  is  here  but  a  musket-shot  wide.  Thus  was 
established  an  advanced  post  of  F'rance,  —  a  constant  menace 
to  New  York  and  New  Fhigland,  both  of  which  denounced  it 
as  an  outrageous  encri)achnient  on  British  temtorj',  but  could 
not  unite  to  rid  themselves  of  it. 

While  making  this  bold  push  against  their  neiglxbors  of 
the  South,  the  French  did  not  forget  the  "West ;  and  towards 
the  middle  of  the  century  they  had  occupied  points  control- 
ling all  the  chief  waterways  between  Canada  and  Louisiana. 
Niagara  held  the  passage  from  I^ke  Ontario  to  Lake  Eric. 
Detroit  closed  the  entrance  to  Lake  Huron,  and  Michilli- 
mackinac  guarded  the  point  where  Lake  Huron  is  joined  by 
liakes  IMicliigan  and  Su])erior;  while  the  fort  called  I^  Baje, 
at  the  head  of  Gieen  Bay,  stopped  the  way  to  the  Mississippi 
by  Marquette's  old  route  at  Fox  Itiver  and  the  Wisconshi. 
Another  route  to  the  Mississippi  was  controlled  by  a  jxjst  on 
the  IMaumee  to  watch  tlie  carrying-place  between  that  river 
and  the  Wabash,  and  by  another  on  the  Wabash  where  Vin- 
cennes  now  stands,  I^  Salle's  route,  by  way  of  the  Kan- 
kakee and  the  Illinois,  was  barred  by  a  fort  on  the  St.  Joseph  ; 
and  even  if,  in  spite  of  these  obstructions,  an  enemy  should 
reach  the  Mississippi  by  any  of  its  northern  affluents,  tlie 
cannon  of  Fort  Chartres  would  prevent  him  from  descend- 
ing it. 

These   various  Western  forts,  except  Fort  Chartres  and 


I  iJl'l 


300  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1731 

Fort  Niagara,  which  were  afterwards  rebuilt,  the  one  in  stone 
and  the  other  in  earth,  were  stockades  of  no  strength  against 
cannon.  Slight  as  they  were,  their  establislunent  was  costly  ; 
and  as  the  king,  to  whom  Canada  was  a  yearly  loss,  grudged 
every  franc  spent  upon  it,  means  were  contrived  to  make 
them  self-supporting.  Each  of  them  was  a  station  of  the 
fur-trade,  and  the  position  of  most  of  them  had  been  deter- 
mined more  or  less  with  a  view  to  that  trailic.  Hence  they 
had  no  slight  commercial  value.  In  some  of  them  the 
Crown  itself  carried  on  trade  through  agents  who  usually 
secured  a  lion's  share  of  the  profits.  Others  were  farmed 
out  to  merchants  at  a  fixed  sum.  In  others,  again,  the  com- 
manding-officer was  permitted  to  trade  on  condition  of  main- 
taining the  post,  paying  the  soldiers,  and  supporting  a 
missionary ;  while  in  one  case,  at  least,  he  was  sul)jected  to 
similar  obligations,  though  not  permitted  to  trade  himself, 
but  oidy  to  sell  trading  licenses  to  merchants.  These 
methods  of  keeping  up  forts  and  garrisons  were  of  course 
open  to  prodigious  abuses,  and  roused  endless  jealousies  and 
rivalries. 

France  had  now  occupied  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi 
and  joined  with  loose  and  uncertain  links  her  two  colonies 
of  Canada  and  Louisiana.  l>ut  the  strength  of  her  hold  on 
these  regions  of  unkem])t  savagery  bore  no  proportion  to  the 
vastness  of  her  claims  or  the  growing  power  of  the  rivals 
who  were  soon  to  contest  them. 


1756]       America  and  the  Seven  Years  War       301 


AMERICA  AND  THE   SEVEN  YEARS  WAR' 


It  is  the  nature  of  great  events  to  obscure  the  great  events 
that  came  before  them.  The  Seven  Years  War  m  Europe 
is  seen  but  dimly  through  revolutionary  convulsions  and 
Napoleonic  tempests ;  and  the  same  contest  in  America 
is  half  lost  to  sight  behind  the  storm-cloud  of  the  War  of 
Independence.  Few  at  this  day  see  the  momentous  issues 
involved  in  it,  or  the  greatness  of  the  danger  that  it  averted. 
The  strife  that  araied  all  the  civilized  world  began  here. 
"  Such  was  the  complication  of  political  interests,"  says  Vol- 
taire, "  that  a  cannon-shot  fired  in  America  could  give  the 
signal  that  set  Europe  in  a  blaze."  Not  quite.  It  was  not 
a  cannon-shot,  but  a  volley  from  the  hunting-pieces  of  a  few 
backwoodsmen,  commanded  by  a  Virginian  youth,  George 
Washington. 

To  us  of  this  day,  the  result  of  the  American  part  of  the 
war  seems  a  foregone  conclusion.  It  was  far  from  being  so; 
and  very  far  from  being  so  regarded  by  our  forefathers.  The 
numerical  superiority  of  the  British  colonies  was  ofl'set  by 
organic  weaknesses  fatal  to  vigorous  and  united  action. 
Nor  at  the  outset  did  they,  or  the  mother-country,  aim  at 
conquering  Canada,  but  only  at  pushing  back  her  boundaries. 
Canada  —  using  the  name  in  its  reslrictt'd  sense  —  was  a 
position  of  great  strength  ;  and  even  when  her  dependencies 
were  overcome,  she  could  hold  her  own  against  forces  far 
superior.     Armies  could  reach  her  only  by  three  routes, — 

•  Montcalm  and  Wolfe,  Introduction. 


302  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1756 

the  Lower  .St.  Lawrence  011  the  east,  the  Upper  St.  Lawrence 
on  the  west,  and  l^ke  C'hamplain  on  the  south.  The  first 
access  was  guarded  by  a  forlret;s  almost  impregnable  by 
nature,  and  the  second  by  a  long  chain  of  dangerous  rapids; 
while  the  third  oflered  a  series  of  points  easy  to  defend. 
During  this  same  war,  Frederic  of  Prussia  held  his  ground 
triuniplianlly  against  greater  odds,  though  his  kingdom  was 
open  on  all  sides  to  attack. 

It  was  the  fatuity  nf  Louis  XV.  and  his  Pompadour  that 
made  the  con([uest  of  Canada  possible.  Had  they  not  broken 
the  traditionary  policy  of  France,  allied  themselves  to  Aus- 
tria, her  ancient  enemy,  and  plunged  needlessly  into  the 
Kurupean  war,  the  whole  force  of  the  kingdom  would  have 
been  turned,  from  the  fii'st,  to  the  humbling  of  England  and 
the  defence  of  the  French  colonies.  The  Frendi  soldiers 
left  dead  on  inglorious  Continental  battle-fields  could  have 
saved  Canada,  and  perhaps  made  good  her  claim  to  the  vast 
teiTitorics  of  the  West. 

l>ut  there  were  other  contingencies.  The  possession  of 
Canada  was  a  question  of  diph»macy  as  well  as  of  war.  If 
Kngland  comiuered  lier,  slie  might  restore  her,  as  she  had 
lately  restored  Cape  l'>relon.  She  had  an  interest  in  keep- 
ing France  alive  on  tlie  American  continent.  More  than 
one  clear  eye  saw,  at  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  that  the 
sulijection  of  Canada  would  lead  to  a  revolt  of  the  llritish 
colonies.  So  long  as  an  active  and  enteri'rising  enemy 
threatened  their  borders,  they  could  not  break  with  the 
mother-country,  because  they  needed  lier  help.  And  if  the 
arms  of  France  had  prospered  in  the  (Aher  hemisphere ;  if 
she  h.ad  gained  in  Europe  or  Asia  territories  with  which  to 
buy  back  what  slie  had  lost  in  America,  then,  in  all  like- 
liliood,  Canada  would  have  jiassed  again  into  her  Jiands. 


1760]      America  and  the  Seven  Years  War       303 

The  most  momentous  an-'  far-reaching  questiijn  ever 
brought  to  issue  on  this  continent  was :  Shall  France  remain 
here,  or  shall  she  not?  If,  by  diplomacy  or  war,  she  had 
preserved  but  the  half,  or  less  than  the  half,  of  her  Ameri- 
can possessions,  tlien  a  barrier  would  have  been  set  to  the 
spread  of  the  English-speaking  races  ;  there  wouM  have  been 
no  Ilevolutionary  War;  and  for  a  long  time,  at  least,  no 
independence.  It  was  nut  a  ([uestion  of  scanty  populations 
strung  along  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence ;  it  w  •  -  or  under 
a  government  of  any  worth  it  would  have  been — a  ques- 
tion of  the  armies  and  generals  of  France.  Aiiieiica  owes 
much  to  the  imbecility  of  Louis  XV.  and  the  ambitious 
vanity  and  per-sonal  dislikes  of  his  mistress. 

The  Seven  Years  War  made  England  what  she  is.  It 
crippled  the  commerce  of  her  rival,  ruined  France  in  two 
onli'ints,  and  blighted  her  as  a  colonial  power.  It  gave 
England  the  control  of  the  seas  and  the  mastery  of  North 
America  and  India,  made  her  the  first  of  commercial  na- 
tions, and  prepared  that  vast  colonial  .system  that  has  jdanted 
new  Englands  in  every  fpiarler  of  the  globe.  And  while  it 
mf  ;le  England  what  she  is,  it  su])plied  to  the  United  Slates 
the  indispensable  condition  of  their  greatness,  if  not  of  their 
national  existence. 

Uefore  entering  on  the  story  of  the  great  contest,  we  will 
look  at  the  parties  to  it  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic. 

The  Combatants.  —  Tlie  latter  half  of  the  reign  of  George 
II.  was  one  of  the  most  prosaic  periods  in  English  historj'. 
The  civil  wai's  and  the  Restoration  had  had  their  enthu- 
siasms, religion  and  liberty  on  one  side,  and  loyalty  on  the 
other;  but  the  old  fires  declined  when  William  III.  came 
to  the  throne,  and  died  to  ashes  under  liie  House  of  Han- 
over.    Loyalty  lost  half  its  inspiration  when  it  lost  the  tenet 


304  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1760 


1760J        America  and  the  Seven  Years  War       305 

of  the  divine  right  of  kings ;  and  nuliody  could  now  hold  that 
tenet  with  any  consistency  except  the  ilefeated  and  despairing 
Jacobites.  Nor  liaii  anybody  as  yet  proclaimed  the  rival 
dogma  of  the  divine  right  of  the  peojilc.  The  reigning 
monarch  held  his  crown  neither  of  (rod  nor  of  the  nation, 
but  of  a  }iarliament  controlled  by  a  ruling  class.  The  Whig 
ari.stocracv  had  done  a  jiriceless  service  to  English  liberty. 
It  was  full  of  {nditical  capacity,  and  by  no  means  void  of 
patriotism;  but  it  was  only  a  ]iart  of  the  national  life.  Nor 
was  it  at  present  moved  by  jiolitical  emotions  in  any  high 
sense.  It  had  done  its  great  work  when  it  expelled  the 
Stuarts  and  placed  William  of  Orange  on  the  throne ;  its 
ascendencv  was  now  complete.  The  Stuarts  had  received 
their  death-blow  at  Culloden ;  and  nothing  was  left  to  the 
dominant  party  but  to  dispute  on  sul)ordinate  questions,  and 
contend  for  otlice  among  themselves.  The  Tory  scjuires 
sulked  in  their  country-houses,  hunted  foxes,  and  grumbh  I 
against  the  reigning  dynasty ;  yet  hardly  wished  to  see  the 
nation  convulsed  by  a  counter-revolution  and  another  return 
of  the  Stuarts. 

If  politics  had  run  to  commonplace,  so  had  morals ;  and 
so  too  had  religion.  Despondent  writers  of  the  day  "ven 
complained  that  British  courage  had  died  out.  There  wi\s 
little  sign  to  the  common  eye  that  under  a  dull  and  languid 
surface,  forces  were  at  work  i)reparing  a  new  life,  material, 
moral,  and  intellectual.  As  yet,  Whitefield  and  Wesley  had 
not  wakened  the  drowsy  conscience  of  the  nation,  nor  the 
voice  of  William  Pitt  roused  it  like  a  trumpet-peal. 

It  was  the  unwashed  and  unsavory  England  of  Hogarth, 
I'ielding,  Smollett,  and  Sterne  ;  of  Tom  Jones,  Squire  West- 
ern, T„ady  Bellrv-ton,  and  Parson  Adams;  of  the  "  Kake's 
Progress "  and  "  Mariage    h  la   Mode ; "   of  the  lords  and 

20 


306  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  ii7«o 

liulioa  who  yet  live  in  Uje  undying  gossip  of  Horace  Walpolf. 
be-powiiered,  be-patched,  ami  be-rougod,  tlirtiiig  at  nmsked 
balls,  playing  cards  till  daylight,  retading  scandal,  and  ex- 
changing double  meanings.  Ik-au  Nash  reigned  king  over 
the  ganiiug-tablea  of  IJath;  and  young  lords  in  velvet 
suits  and  embroidered  rulllos  played  away  their  patrimony 
at  White's  Chocolate-House  or  Arthur's  Club.  Vice  was 
bolder  than  to-day,  and  manners  more  courtly,  perhap.^  but 
far  more  coarse. 

The  humbler  clergy  were  thought  —  sometimes  with  reason 
—  to  be  no  fit  company  for  gentlemen,  and  country  parsons 
drank  their  ale  in  the  squire's  kitchen.  The  j'assenger- 
wagon  sjtent  the  better  part  of  a  fortnight  in  creeping  from 
London  to  York.  Travellers  carried  pistols  against  footpads 
and  mounted  highwaymen.  Dick  Turpin  and  Jack  Sheppard 
were  popular  heroes.  Tyl)urn  counted  its  victims  by  scores; 
and  as  yet  no  Howard  had  appeared  to  reform  the  inhuman 
abominations  of  the  prisons. 

The  middle  class,  tliotigh  fast  rising  in  importance,  was 
feebly  and  imj>erfectly  represented  in  parliament.  The 
boroughs  were  controlled  by  the  nobility  and  gentrj-,  or 
by  cori>orations  open  to  influence  or  bribery.  Parliamentary 
corruption  had  been  reduced  to  a  system;  and  oflices,  sine- 
cures, jiensions,  and  gifts  -u  liioney  were  freely  used  to  keep 
niiiiislers  in  power.  The  great  ollices  of  state  were  held  by 
men  sotnetimes  of  liigh  alulity,  but  of  whom  not  a  few 
dividt  '  cir  lives  among  i)olitics,  cards,  wine,  horse-racing, 
and  women,  till  time  and  the  gout  sent  them  to  the  waters 
of  liuth.  The  dull,  pompous,  and  irascible  old  king  had  two 
ruling  passions,  —  money,  and  his  Continental  dominions 
of  Hanover.  His  elder  son,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  was  a 
centre  of  opposition  to  him.     His  younger  son,  the  Duke  of 


1760]       America  and  the  Seven  Years  War       3°? 

CuiubeiiaiKl,  a  clianKacf  far  more  pronouncetl  ami  vigorous, 
had  won  the  day  at  Culludon  and  lust  it  at  Fout"ut»y ;  but 
whether  victor  or  vaiKiuished,  had  shown  the  same  vehement 
hull-headed  courage,  of  late  a  little  subdued  by  Cast-rowing 
corpulency.  The  Duiie  of  Newcasi'  ,  the  head  oi  the 
govcrnnieul,  had  gained  pjwer  and  kej't  it  by  his  rank  and 
connections,  his  wealth,  his  county  influence,  his  control 
of  boroughs,  and  the  extraordinary  assiduity  and  devotion 
with  which  lie  jtractised  llie  arts  of  corruption.  Henry  Fox, 
grasping,  unscrupulous,  with  powerful  talents,  a  warm  friend 
after  his  fashion,  and  a  most  indulgent  fallier;  Carteret, 
with  his  strong,  versatile  mtellect  and  jovial  intrei>idily ; 
the  twr.  Townshends,  Mansfield,  Halifax,  and  Chesterfield, 

were  conspicuous  figures  in  the  politics  of  the  time.     One 

man  towered  above  them  all.  Pitt  had  many  enemies  and 
many  critics.  They  called  him  ambitious,  audacious,  arro- 
gant, theatrical,  pompous,  domineering ;  but  what  he  has  left 
for  posterity  is  a  loftiness  of  soul,  undaunted  courage,  fiery 
and  passionate  eloquence,  proud  hicorniptil>ility,  domestic 
virtues  rare  in  his  day,  unbounded  faith  in  the  cause  for 
which  he  stood,  and  abilities  which  without  wealth  or  strong 
connections  were  destined  to  place  him  on  the  height  of 
]>ower.  The  middle  class,  as  yet  almost  voiceless,  looked 
to  him  as  its  champion;  but  he  was  not  the  champion  of 
a  class.  His  patriotism  was  as  comprehensive  as  it  was 
haughty  and  unbending.  He  lived  for  England,  loved  her 
with  intense  devotion,  knew  her,  believed  in  her,  and  made 
her  greatness  his  own ;  or  rather,  he  was  himself  Englaml 
incarnate. 

The  nation  was  not  then  in  fighting  equipment.  After 
tiie  peace  of  Aix-la-Cha]ielle,  the  army  within  the  tliree 
kingdoms  had  been   reduced   to  about  eighteen   thousaud 


^o8  Tfn-  StruggK  tor  :i  C  o/itinent  11760 

nil  II.      \     iftl        ih.-f  \\v\v  i\u'  jiiiiTisciis  (ii    Minorca  and 

'liLralua,  jiid  six  nr  >t'\fn  iudcr  ■  mlt'iu  ronijKUiios  in  ihu 
VtiitTi-  in  .(.1.. nil's,  m  sailms,  ^s  ijian  sfvciilceu  thou- 
uud    .<    •  U'l    ill  I  lie  l;..yal  Navy.     Sm  h     as  tlu'  cuiidiliuri 

of  'ii^iiud  un  I  111"  t'vo     I"  diu'  of  till'  11.  )st  funiiiilalde  wars 

in  will  h  site  \va>  ever  i  it^ageil. 


Uer   'i*        iiT' 

i;    'i»nsi-i,H£-i|\    Ut\\ 
th'     old  'i.u    liv 


Ull:       •Sil    _ 

tlin'n*eui-u 


of 


!l    (I 

.llil: 


'  '■  <"hannel  wa^  drifting   slowly  and 

I  ill' cataclysm  i)f  th"  Ucvoluiion;  yet 

..I    <if   the  <;i  rius  ■      decay,  wa.s  still 

Corii       lilt'.     'Ilic  n>'ii.sc  I.  ulton  ludd  the 

"'  'i<'<'       i'ain.  aiitl    .Xiiics;    and    tlieir 

•I  i         \"  (oniiiact  x'.as   the   terror  of 

in.iii.     At         (ic    Kijiiice  wa.s  the    foremost 

Mtal   nations;    uid  slie  lioiisted  lierself  .second 


10    Sjiain    a-    a    colon  li    jiow.-r.       he   disjaited    with 


^'^xieo  and  a  strip 

my  numertius, 

commanders 

des,   lirofjlie, 


'id  ilie  mastery  of  India,  owned  the     lands  of  Ilourbon 
J     1  Maiiritins,  held  imi>ortant  pos.sessi  !         th    West  Indies, 
■ud  claimed  all  Xoith   America  exe^. 
sea-(>oast.     Her  navy  was  jxiwerlu; 
w    1  apjMiinted;  but  she  lacked  lii 
I    ihi      ist   reign.      Souliise,  Mailleboi.^ 
ind  CI  rraont  were  but  weak  successors  t  t  Cond^,  Turenne, 
Vendonie,  and  Villars. 

The  triunijth  of  the  Bourbon  monarchy  was  comjilete. 
The  government  had  become  one  great  machine  of  centralized 
administration,  with  ;\  king  for  its  head  ;  though  a  king  who 
neither  could  nor  would  direct  it.  All  strife  was  iver  -0- 
ween  the  Crown  and  the  noldes ;  feudalism  was  robbed  of 
its  vitality,  and  left  the  mere  image  of  its  former  self,  with 
nothing  alive  but  its  abuses,  its  cast  privileges,  its  exacti(.ns, 
its  pride  and  vanity,  its  power  to  vex  and  oppress.     In  Eng- 


I  J 


1760]       America  and  the  Seven  Years  War       309 

land,  llu'  nuhiliiy  were  a  living  |'Uil  I'f  the  iialiuji,  nn»l  if 
ihey  Imil  jirivilfge"'.  llu-v  paiil  fur  llu'in  \>\  i-tnistaiil  sorvitT 
to  the  slati' ;  iti  FiancL',  tlu-y  hail  no  iHililical  lift',  antl  were 
«t'[»;iratttl  fn»ni  the  jMHiple  liy  sharp  liiios  of  (h-inan-ation. 
Fi  'HI  warrior  chufs,  ihry  liad  chanjji'tl  to  courliers.  'I'liosc 
of  ilu'in  who  ('(Mild  afl'ord  it,  and  many  who  could  not,  left 
ill 'ir  t'stalis  to  the  nicrcy  of  stewards,  and  gatht'n'd  at 
\  ersaillo  lo  revolve  ah;iut  the  tiu'one  as  glitterinj;  satellites, 
paid  iu  pomp,  empty  dislimtions,  or  rieh  sinei-ures,  for  the 
po'  er  lliey  had  lost.  They  ruined  their  vassals  to  support 
the  extravajjance  by  which  they  ruined  themselves.  Such 
as  stayed  at  home  were  objects  of  pity  and  scorn.  ''  Out  of 
your  Majesty's  ])rosence,"  said  one  of  them,"  we  are  not  only 
wretched,  but  ridiculous." 

Versailles  was  like  a  vast  and  Rorj^eous  theatre,  where  all 
were  aetor.s  and  spectators  at  once;  an<l  all  played  their 
jiarts  to  perfection.  Here  swarmed  by  thousands  this  silken 
nobility,  whose  anccsto's  rode  cased  in  iron.  Pageant  fol- 
lowed pageant.  A  picture  of  the  time  preserves  for  us  an 
evening  in  the  great  hall  of  the  Chateau,  where  the  king, 
with  i)iles  of  louis  d'or  before  him,  sits  at  a  large  oval  green 
table,  throwing  the  dice,  among  princes  and  princesses,  dukes 
and  duchesses,  ambassadors,  niarslial-  of  France,  and  a  vast 
thmng  of  courtiers,  like  an  animated  oed  of  tulijis;  for  men 
and  women  alike  wear  bright  and  varied  colors.  Above  are 
the  frescos  of  Le  ISrun ;  around  are  walls  of  sculptured  and 
inhid  marbles,  with  mirrors  that  reflect  the  restless  splendors 
of  the  scene  and  the  blaze  of   chandeliers,  sparkling  with 


cr>'^^*il      endants 

1.  d 


1'      '1.  inagniricencvj,  profusion,  were  a 

'     Versailles  was  a  gulf  into 

s      rnings;  and  it  was 


ll 


. 


.iklMl 


3IO  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1760 

Here  the  graces  and  charms  were  a  political  power. 
Women  had  prodigious  influence,  and  the  two  sexes  were 
never  more  alike.  Men  not  only  dressed  in  colors,  but  they 
wore  patches  and  carried  mufls.  The  robust  qualities  of  the 
old  1  ^ility  still  lingered  among  the  exiles  of  the  provinces, 
while  at  Court  they  hud  melted  into  refinements  tainted 
with  corruption.  Yet  if  the  butterflies  of  Versailles  had  lost 
virility,  they  had  not  lost  courage.  They  fought  as  gayly 
as  they  danced.  In  the  halls  which  they  haunted  of  yoie, 
turned  now  into  a  historical  picture-gallery,  one  sees  them 
still,  on  the  canvas  of  Lenfant,  Lepaon,  or  Vernet,  facing 
death  with  careless  gallantry,  in  their  small  three-cornered 
hats,  powdered  perukes,  embroidered  coats,  and  lace  rulHes. 
'"-■'^eir  valets  served  them  with  ices  in  the  trenches,  under  the 
cannon  of  besieged  towns.  A  troop  of  actors  formed  part  of 
the  array-train  of  Marshal  Saxe.  At  night  there  was  a 
comedy,  a  ballet,  or  a  ball,  and  in  the  morning  a  battle. 
Saxe,  however,  liimself  a  sturdy  (lerman,  while  he  recognized 
their  fighting  value,  and  knew  well  how  to  make  the  l»est  of 
it,  sometimes  complained  that  they  were  volatile,  excitable, 
and  difficult  to  manage. 

The  weight  of  the  Court,  with  its  pomps,  luxuries,  and 
wars,  boi  on  the  classes  least  able  to  sui>i)ort  it.  The  poor- 
est were  taxed  most ;  the  richest  not  at  all.  The  nobles,  in 
the  main,  were  free  from  imposts.  The  clergy,  who  had  vast 
possessions,  were  wholly  free,  though  they  consented  to  make 
voluntary  gifts  to  the  Crown ;  and  when,  in  a  time  of  emer- 
gency, the  minister  Machault  reipiired  them,  in  common 
with  all  others  hitherto  exempt,  to  contribute  a  twentieth  of 
their  revenues  to  the  charges  of  government,  they  passion- 
ately refused,  declaring  lliat  they  would  obey  CJod  rather 
than  the  king.     The  cultivators  of  the  soil  were  ground  to 


i76oi       America  and  the  Seven  Years  War       311 

the  earth  by  a  threefold  extortion,  —  the  soigniorial   dues, 
the  tithes  of  the  Church,  and  the  multiplied  exactions  of  the 
Crown,  enforced  with  merciless  rigor  by  the  farmers  of  the 
revenue,  who  enriched  the.nselves  by  wringing  the  peasant 
on  the  one  hand,  and  cheating  the  king  on  the  other.     A 
few  great   cities  .shone  with  all  that  is  most   brilliant   in 
society,  intellect,  and  concentred  wealth ;  while  the  country 
that  paid  the  costs  lay  in  ignorance  and  i»enury,  crushed 
and   despairing.     On    the    inhabitants   of    towns,   too,  the 
demands  of   the   tax-gatherer  were  extreme ;  but  here  the 
immense  vitality  of  the  French  peojile  bore  up  the  burden. 
While   agriculture  languished,   and    intolerable   oppression 
turned   peasants   into   beggars   or   desperadoes ;    while   the 
clerg)'  were  sapped  by  corruption,  and  the  nobles  enervated 
by  luxury  and  ruined  by  extravagance,  the  middle  class  was 
growing  in  thrift  and  strength.     Arts  and  commerce  pros- 
pered, and   the    seaports  were    alive   with    foreign    trade. 
Wealth  tended  from  all  sides  towards  the  centre.    The  king 
did  not  love  his  capital ;  but  he  and  his  favorites  amused 
themselves  with  adorning  it.     Some  of  the  chief  embellish- 
ments that  make  Paris  what  it  is  to-day  —  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde,  the  Champs  Elysdes  and  many  of  the  palaces  of 
the  Faubourg  St.  Germain  — date  from  this  reign. 

One  of  the  vicious  conditions  of  the  time  was  the  separa- 
tion in  sympathies  and  interests  of  the  four  great  classes  of 
the  nation,  —  clergy,  nobles,  bvii^'hers,  and  peasants;  and 
each  of  these,  again,  divided  itself  into  incoherent  fragments. 
Fmnce  was  an  aggregate  of  disjointed  parts,  held  together 
by  a  meshwork  of  arbitrary'  power,  itself  touched  with  decay. 
A  disastrous  blow  was  struck  at  the  national  welfare  when 
tlie  government  of  Louis  XV.  revived  the  odio\is  jiersecution 
of  the  Huguenots.     The  attempt  to  scour  heresy  out  of 


312  The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent  I1760 

France  cost  lier  the  iiio.sl  iiidiisliiuius  and  virtuous  ])art  of 
lier  iio|iiilalion,  and  rohbi'd  her  of  those  most  tit  to  resist  the 
nioekiuf,'  scepticism  and  turhiti  jiassions  that  liurst  out  like  a 
dehijre  with  the  Kevohition. 

Her  nianifohl  ills  were  summed  up  in  the  kin^-     Since 
the  Vulois,  she  had  had  no  monarch  so  worthless.     He  did 
not  want  understanding,  still  less  the  graces  of  person.     In 
his  youth  the  i)eople  called  him  the  "  Well -beloved ; "  but 
by  the  middle  of  the  century  they  so  detested  him  that  he 
dared  not  jiass  through   Paris,  lest  the  mob  shtmld  execrate 
him.     He  had  not  the    igor  of  the  true  tyrant;  but  his  lan- 
guor, his  hatred  of  all  elTort,  his  profound  selfish;. .ss,  his 
listless  disregard  of  public  duty,  and  his  etfemiuale  libertin- 
ism, mixed  with  supcstitious  devotion,  made  him  no  less  a 
natiiMial  curse.   Louis  XIII.  was  eipially  untit  to  govern  ;  but 
he  gave  the  reins  to  the  Great  Cardinal.     Louis  XV.  aban- 
doned them  to  a  frivolous  mistress,  content  that  she  should 
rule  on  condition  of  amusing  him.     It  was  a  hard  task;  yet 
Madame  de  Tompadour  accomjilished  it  by  methods  infamous 
to  him  and  to  her.     She  gained  and  long  kept  the  power 
that  she  coveted :  tilled  the  Uastille  with  her  enemies;  made 
and   inimude   ministers;   appointed   and   removed  generals. 
Great  (juestions  of  policy  were  at  the  mercy  of  her  cajjrices. 
Through  her  frivolous  vanity,  her  personal  likes  and  dislikes, 
all  the  great  dejjartmenls  of  government  —  army,  navy,  war, 
foreign  afTairs,  justice,  finance  —  changed  from  hand  to  hand 
incessantly,  and  this  at  a  time  of  crisis  wliea  the  kingdom 
needed  the  steadiest  and  surest  guidance.     Few  of  the  offi- 
cers of  state,  except,  perhaps,  D'Argenson,  could  venture  to 
disregard  her.     She  turned  out  Orry,  the  comptnjUer-general, 
put  her  favorite,  MachauU,  into  his  j.lace,  then  made  him 
keeper  of  the  seals,  and  at  last  minister  of  marine.     The 


1760]  America  and  the  Seven  Years  War  3^3 
Marquis  do  Puysieux,  in  the  ministry  of  fort  -n  -fairs,  and 
the  Comte  de  St.-Horentui,  charged  with  th-  :h\.s  of  the 
clergy,  took  their  cue  from  her.  The  kmg  sliuted  her  in 
nothing.  Fu-st  and  la.st,  she  is  reckoned  to  hivve  cost  him 
thirty-six  million  francs,  —  answering  now  to  raore  than  as 
many  dollars. 

The  prestige  of  the  monarchy  was  declining  with  the  idra.'-, 
that  had  given  it  life  and  strength.     A  gr.)wing  disrespect 
for  king,  ministry,  and  clergy  was  beginning  to  prepare  the 
catastrophe  that  was  still   some  forty  yeai-s  in  the  fu  .ure. 
While  the  valleys  and  low  places  of  the  kingdom  were        k 
with  misery  and  s.iualor,  its  hrights  were  bright  wii  >  a  gay 
society,  — elegant,  fastidious,  n\  :iy,  — craving  the  pleasures 
of  the  mind  as  well  as  of  the  senses,  criticising  everything, 
analyzing  everything,  believing  nothing.     Voltake  was   in 
the  midst  of  it,  hating,  with  all  his  vehement  soul,  the 
abuses  that  swarmed  about  him,  and  assailing  them  with  the 
inexhaustible  shafts  of  his  restless   and  piercing   intellect. 
Montesquieu  was  showing  to  a  despot-rid-^eu  age  the  prin- 
ciples of  political  freedom.     Diderot  and  D'Alembert  were 
beginning  their  revolutionary  Encyclopicdia.     Eousseau  was 
sounding  the  first  notes  of  his  mad  eloquence,  —  the  wild 
revolt  of  a  passionate  and  diseased  genius  against  a  world  of 
falsities  and  wrongs.     The  salons  of  Paris,  cloyed  with  other 
pleasures,  alive  to  all  that  w..  racy  and  new,  welcomed  the 
pungent  doctrines,  and  played  witii  them  as  rhikhen  play 
with  fire,  thinking  no  danger;   as  time  went  on,  i^ven  em- 
braced them  in  a  genuine  spiiit  of  hope  and  good-will  for 
humanity.     The  Kevol  ition  began  at  the  top,  —  in  the  world 
of  fashion,  birth,  and  intellea,  — and  propagated  itself  down- 
wards.    "  We  walked  on  a  carpet  of  flowers,"  Count .  Sc'-gur 
afterwards  said,  "  unconscious  that  it  c(.\  ered  an  abyss  ; "  till 
tl,p  milf  vjiwncd  p.t  last,  and  swallowed  them. 


314  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1754 


THE  AMERICAX   COMBATANTS  1 

TliK  Freueh  claimed  all  America,  from  the  Alleglianies  to  the 
Kocky  Mountains,  and  from  Mexico  and  Florida  to  the  North 
I'ole,  except  only  the  ill-detined  possessions  of  the  English 
on  the  borders  of  Hudson  Day;  and  to  these  vast  regions, 
witli  adjacent  islands,  they  gave  tlie  general  name  of  New 
France.     They  controlled  the  h-gJnvays  .,f  the  continent,  f..r 
they  held  its  two  great  rivers.     First,  tliey  had  seized  the  St. 
Lawrence,  and  then  j.lanted  themselves  at  tlie  m<mth  of  the 
Mississippi.     Canada   at  the  nortli,  and    Louisiana  at   the 
south,  were  the  keys  of  a  boundless  interi(»r,  rich  with  in- 
calculable iK)ssibilitie3.     The  English  colonies,  ranged  along 
the  Atlantic  coast,  liad  no  royal  road  to  the  great  inland,  and 
were,  in  a  manner,  sluit  between  the  mountains  and  the  sea. 
At  the  middle  of  the  century  they  numbered  in  all,  from 
Georgia  to  Maine,  about  eleven  lu.ndred  and  sixty  thousand 
white  inhabitants.     By  the  census  of  1754  Canada  had  but 
fifty-live  thousaml.     Add  those  of  bniisiana  and  Acadia,  and 
the  whole  wliite  population  under  the  Frendi  flag  might  be 
something  more  than  eighty  thousand.    Here  is  an  enormous 
disparity ;  and  hence  it  has  l)een  argued  that  the  success  of 
the  Englisli  colonies  and  the  failure  of  the  French  was  not 
due  to  difference  of  religious  and  j»olitical  systems,  but  sim- 
ply to  numerifal  preponderance.     But  this    jneponderanc^e 
itself  grew  out  (»f  a  difference  of   system.s.     We  have  said 

*  Montcalm  an  J  Wolfe,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  I. 


lite 


1754]  The  American  Combatants  315 

before,  and  it  cannot  be  said  too  often,  that  in  making 
Canada  a  citadel  of  the  slate  religion,  —  a  holy  of  holies  of 
exclusive  Roman  Catholic  orthodoxy,  —  the  clerical  monitors 
of  the  Crown  robbed  their  country  of  a  trans-Atlantic  em- 
l)iro.  Xew  France  could  not  grow  with  a  priest  on  guard  at 
the  gate  to  let  in  none  but  such  as  pleased  him.  O.j  of  the 
ablest  of  Canadian  governors,  La  GalissoniJire,  seeing  the 
feebli'iiess  of  the  colony  coniiiared  with  the  vastuess  of  its 
claims,  advised  the  king  to  send  ten  thousand  peasants  to 
«»(tcu]ty  the  valley  of  the  Ohio,  and  hold  back  the  Ihitish 
swarm  that  was  just  then  pushing  its  advance-guard  over  the 
AUeghanies.  It  needed  no  efrort  of  the  king  to  people  his 
waste  domain,  not  with  ten  thousand  peasants,  but  with 
twenty  times  ten  thousand  Frenclimen  of  every  station, — 
the  most  industrious,  most  instructed,  most  disci})lined  by 
atlversity  and  capa])le  of  self-rule,  tliat  the  country  could 
boast.  While  La  (lalissonifere  was  asking  for  colonists,  the 
agents  of  :he  Crown,  set  on  by  priestly  fanaticism,  or  de- 
signing selfishness  masked  with  fanaticism,  were  pouring 
Volleys  of  musketry  into  Huguenot  congregations,  imprison- 
ing for  life  those  innocent  of  all  but  their  faitli,  —  the  men 
in  the  galleys,  the  women  in  the  pestiferous  dungeons  of 
Aigues  Mortes,  —  hanging  their  ministers,  kidna))ping  their 
cliildren,  and  reviving,  in  short,  the  dragonnades.  Now,  as 
in  the  past  century,  many  of  the  victims  escaped  to  the 
liiitish  cohmies,  and  became  a  part  of  them.  The  Hugue- 
nots would  have  hailed  as  a  boon  the  jiermission  to  emigmte 
under  tlie  fleur-de-lis,  and  build  up  a  Protestant  France  in 
the  valleys  of  the  West.  It  would  have  been  a  bane  of  abso- 
lutism, but  a  national  glory;  would  have  set  bounds  to  Eng- 
lish colonization,  and  changed  the  face  of  the  continent. 
The  uj>{iortuuity  was  spurncil.     The  dominant  Churdi  clung 


|i 


1^ 


m 


316  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [i745-»755; 

to  its  iti)licy  of  rule  anil  ruin.  P' ranee  built  its  best  colony 
on  a  principle  of  exclusion, ami  failed;  England  reversed  the 
system,  and  succeeded. 

I  have  shown  elsewhere  the  aspects  of  Canada,  where  a 
rigid  scion  of  the  old  European  tree  was  set  to  -^  y  in  the 
wilderness.     The    military  governor,  holding  :iniature 

court  on  the  rock  of  Quebec;  the  feudal  propiiO'   -a,  whose 
domains  lined  the  shores  of  the  St.  Lawrence ;  the  peasant ; 
the  roving  bushranger ;  the  half-tamed  savage,  with  crucifix 
and  scalping-knife ;  priests;  friars;   nuns;   and  soldiers, — 
mingled  to  form  a  society  the  most  picturesque  on  the  con- 
tinent.    "What  distinguished  it  from  the  France  that  pro- 
duced it  was  a  total  absence  of  revolt  against  the  laws  of  its 
being,  —  an  absolute  conservatism,  an  un([uestioning  accept- 
ance  of   Church   and    king.      The    Canadian,   ignorant    of 
everything  but  what  the  priest  saw  tit  to  teach  him,  had 
never  heard  of  Voltaire ;  and  if  he  had  known  him,  would 
have  thought  him  a  devil.     lie  had,  it  is  true,  a  spirit  of 
insubordination  born  of  the  freedom  of  the  forest ;  but  if  his 
instincts  rebelled,  his  mind  and  soul  were  passively  sub- 
missive.    The  unchecked  control  of  a  hierarchy  robbed  hira 
of  the   independence   of    intellect   and    character,  without 
which,  under  the  conditions  of  modern  life,  a  people  must 
resign  itself  to  a  position  of  inferiority.     Yet  Canada  had  a 
vigor  of  her  own.     It  was   not  in  spiritual  deference  only 
that  she  differed  from  the  country  of  her  birth.     Whatever 
she  had  caught  of  its  corruptions,  she  had  caught  nothing  of 
its   effeminacy.     The   mass  of  her   jieople  lived  in  a  rude 
poverty,  —  not  abject,  like  the  peasant  of  old  France,  nor 
ground  down  by  the  tax-gatherer;  while  those  of  the  higher 
ranks  —  all  more  or  less  engaged  in  pursuits  of  war  or  adven- 
ture, and  inured  to  rough  journey  ings  and  forest  exposures  — 


I745-I7551       The  American  Combatams  317 

were  nigged  as  tlieir  climate.  Even  the  French  regular 
troops,  sent  out  to  defend  the  colony,  caught  its  hardy  spirit, 
and  set  an  example  of  stubborn  lighting  which  their  com- 
rades at  home  did  not  always  enudale. 

Canada  lay  ensconceil  behind  rocks  aiul  forests.  All  along 
her  southern  boundaries,  between  her  and  her  Knglish  foes, 
lay  a  broad  tract  of  wilderness,  shaggy  with  [irimeval  woods, 
Innumenible  streams  gurgled  beneath  their  .shadows  ;  innu- 
merable lakes  gleamed  in  the  liery  sun.sets;  innumerable 
mountains  bared  their  rocky  foreheads  to  the  wind.  These 
wa.stes  were  ranged  by  her  savage  allies,  Micmacs,  Eteche- 
mins,  Abenakis,  ('aughnawagas;  and  no  enemy  could  steal 
upon  her  unawares.  Through  the  midst  of  them  stretched 
Lake  Champlain,  pointing  straight  to  the  heart  of  the  llritish 
settlements,  —  a  watery  thoroughfare  of  mutual  attack,  and 
the  only  approach  by  whidi,  without  a  hmg  i/t'luur  by  wil- 
derness or  sea,  a  htjslile  army  could  come  within  striking 
distance  of  the  colony.  The  French  advanced  jnist  of  Fort 
Freddric,  called  Crown  I'oint  by  the  Knglisli,  barred  the  nar- 
rows of  the  lake,  whidi  llience  spread  northward  to  the 
])ortal3  of  Canada  guarded  by  Fort  St.  .lean.  Southwest- 
ward,  some  fourteen  hundred  miles  as  a  bird  Hies,  and  twice 
as  far  by  the  ])racticable  routes  of  travel,  was  Louisiana,  the 
second  of  the  two  heads  of  New  France  ;  while  between  lay 
the  realms  of  scditude  where  the  Mississipi>i  ndled  its  sullen 
tide,  and  the  Ohio  wound  its  belt  of  silver  through  the 
verdar.i  woodlands. 

To  whom  belonged  this  world  of  prairies  and  forests  ? 
France  claimed  it  by  right  of  discovery  and  occupation.  It 
was  her  exjdorers  who,  after  De  Soto,  first  set  foot  on  it. 
The  question  of  right,  it  is  true,  mattered  little;  for,  right  or 
wrong,  neither  claimant  would  yield  her  pretensions  so  long 


31 8  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent      |i745-'755 

as  she  had  strenj^lh  to  njihold  them  ;  yet  one  point  is  w(jrth 
a  moment's  notice.  The  French  liad  e.staldished  an  excel- 
lent system  in  the  distribution  of  their  American  lands. 
Whoever  received  a  grant  from  the  Crown  was  reciuired  to 
inqmne  it,  and  this  within  reasonable  time.  If  he  did  not, 
tlie  land  ceased  to  be  liis,  and  was  given  to  another  more 
able  or  inthistrioiis.  An  international  extension  of  lier  own 
j.riiK-iple  would  have  tlestroyed  the  pretensions  of  France  to 
all  the  countries  of  the  West.  She  had  called  them  hers  for 
three-fourths  of  a  century,  and  they  were  still  a  howling 
waste,  vielding  nothing  to  civilization  but  beaver-skins,  with 
here  and  there  a  fort,  trading-post,  or  mission,  and  three  or 
four  puny  hamlets  by  the  ^lississippi  and  the  Detroit.  We 
have  seen  how  she  might  have  made  f<jr  herself  an  indis- 
imtable  title,  and  iieojiled  the  solitudes  with  a  host  to  main- 
tain it.  She  would  not ;  others  were  at  hand  who  both  would 
and  could ;  and  the  late  claimai\t,  disinherited  and  forlorn, 
would  soon  be  left  to  count  the  cost  of  her  bigotry. 


f 


I745-I7551     The  Thirteen  British  Colonies 


3'9 


THE  THIRTEPIN   r.IIITISII   COLONIES' 


TilK  tliirti'on  r>rilish  coloiiit's  were  alike,  iiisonuu-h  as  they 
all  had  repivsontativc  ffoveiiimtMits,  ami  a  basis  of  Kiii^lish 
law.  J5ut  the  (lill'erenct's  aiiumf?  tlit'iii  wore  greai.  Sunie 
were  i)urely  English;  others  were  niado  up  ui  various  races, 
though  tlie  Anglo-Saxon  was  always  ])re(loniiuant.  Some 
had  one  prevailing  leligious  creed;  others  had  many  creeds. 
Some  had  charters,  and  some  had  not.  In  most  cases  the 
governor  was  appointed  by  the  (.'rown  ;  in  I'enn.sylvania  and 
Maryland  he  was  a])]iointed  by  a  feudal  juoprietor,  and  in 
Connecticut  and  Iihode  Island  he  was  chtisen  by  the  jteople. 
The  dill'erences  of  disposition  and  character  wei-e  still  greater 
than  those  of  form. 

The  four  northern  colonies,  known  collectively  as  New 
England,  were  an  exception  to  the  general  rule  of  diversity. 
'J'he  smallest,  Ithode  Island,  had  features  all  its  own ;  but 
the  rest  were  substantially  one  in  nnture  and  origin.  The 
principal  among  them,  Massachusetts,  may  serve  as  the  type 
of  all.  It  was  a  mosaic  of  little  village  republics,  firmly 
cemented  together,  and  formed  into  a  single  biuly  jtfilitic 
through  representatives  sent  to  the  "  (Jeneral  Court "  at 
Boston.  Its  government,  originally  theocratic,  now  tended 
to  democracy,  ballasted  as  yet  by  strong  traditions  f>f  respect 
for  established  worth  and  ability,  as  well  as  by  the  influence 
of  certain  families  prominent  in  afl'airs  for  generati<jus.     Yet 

»  Montcalm  an.l  Wolf.-,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  I. 


320  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent      [i745-«755 

there  were  no  distinct  cluHs-liiifs,  aii.l  iH.imlar  p.wor,  like 
iM.pular  e.UKaliun.  was  wiaely  dUlusid.     I'ra.tically  Massa- 
cliusetls  was  aliiicst   imlcpendenl   uf   the    njcther-counlry. 
Us  i.('ni.le  wfiv  i-uivly  Kiijjlish,  uf  sound  yeoinau  stcck,  with 
an  al.undatit   h'avt-n  .hawn    from  the  hest  of   the   I'uritau 
jrentiy  ;  hut  thiir  original  .haractcr  had  hccn  somewhat  nn.d- 
ilied  t.y  chanj^'cd  coiiditi.'Ms  of  hf.'.     A   liaisli  and  exa.ling 
cietd.wiih  ilsstilT  formalism  and  its  pinhihiti'-n  of  whole- 
some nvivation;  excess   in  ih.'   pursuit  of  -iain,  —  the  only 
resource  left  to  enerj,Mes  n,M.,d  of  their  natiiral  play,  the 
stru<r.defor  existence  on  a  hard  and  harren  soil;  and  the 
isolation  of  a    narrow  villaj,'e   life,  — joined  to  produce,  \n 
the  meaner  sort,  .lualilies  which  were  unpleasant,  ami  some- 
times rejailsive.     Puritanism  was  not  an  unmixed  hlessin<j. 
Its  view  of  human  nalur.'  was  ilark,  and  its  attitude  towards 
it  one  wf  repression.     It  strove  to  crush  out  not  only  what 
is  evil,  hut   much  that    is   innocent   and  sahitary.      Human 
naline  so  treiue.l  will  tak.'  lis  revenm<,  and  for  every  vice 
that  it  loses  liud  another  instead.     Nevertheless,  while  Xew 
Knj,dand  Tin-itanism  b^re  its  peculiar  eroj)  of  faults,  it  pro- 
duced al>.    many  good  and  sound  fruits.     An  uncommon 
vigor,  joined  to  the  hardy  virtues  of  a  masculine  race,  marked 
the  Xew  Knglai  1  type.     The  sinews,  it  is  true,  were  hard- 
ened at  t1     exi)ense  of  blood  and  fle-^h,  — and  this  literally 
as  well  :      figuratively  ;  but  the  staj.le  of  character  was  a 
sturdv  conscientiousness,  an  undespairing  courage,  patriotism, 
public  spirit,  sagacity,  and  a  strong  good  sense.     A  great 
change,  both  for  Itetter  and  for  worse,  ha-  since  come  over  it, 
due  largidy  to  reaction  against  the  imnatural  rigors  of  the 
])ast.     That  mixture,  which  is  now  too  common,  of  cool  emo- 
tions with  excitable  brains,  wa^  then  varely  st-en.     The  New 
England  colonies  abounded  in  high  exam]iles  of  public  and 


>745-«755!     The  Thirteen  British  Colonies 


321 


jiiivatt'  virtue,  ihnu^^li  imt  always  umlur  llie  iimst  |iri'iM».ssosH- 
iii^  forms.  'I'lu'v  were  fim^jiii'iKms,  moreover,  for  inlellectual 
aclivity,  and  were  by  no  means  wilhoiit  inlelleelual  eminence. 
Massaclmselts  liatl  ]»rodiici'(l  at  least  two  pr'h  whose  fame 
had  crossed  the  sea,  —  Kdwards,  who  out  of  the  ^rini  the- 
olojjy  of  ('alvin  moiuited  to  sublime  heiyhls  of  mystical 
sjK'culation ;  ami  Franklin,  famous  already  hy  his  discoveries 
in  electricity.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were  few  i,'enuine 
New  Entjlanders  who,  however  jiersonally  modest,  cmdd  di- 
vest themselves  of  the  notion  that  they  beh)nf:;ed  to  a 
jieople  in  an  esjtecial  manner  tlie  object  of  divine  jqiproval ; 
and  this  self-righteousness,  alonj^  with  certain  other  traits, 
failed  10  commend  the  Puritan  colonies  to  the  favor  of  their 
fellows.  Then,  as  now.  New  England  was  best  known  to  her 
neighbors  hy  her  worst  aide. 

In  one  ]>oint,  however,  she  found  general  applause.  She 
was  regarded  as  the  most  military  among  the  IJritish  colo- 
nies. This  reputation  was  well  founded,  and  is  easily 
explained.  ^lore  than  all  the  rest,  slie  lay  ojien  to  attack. 
The  long  waving  line  of  the  New  England  border,  with  its 
lonely  hamlets  and  scattered  farms,  cxleiidi'<l  from  the  Ken- 
nebec to  beyond  the  Connecticut,  and  was  everywhere  vul- 
nerable to  the  guns  and  tomahawks  of  the  neighboring 
French  and  their  savage  allies.  The  colonies  towards  the 
south  had  thus  far  been  safe  from  danger.  New  York  alone 
was  within  striking  distance  of  the  Canadian  war-parties. 
That  province  then  consisted  of  a  line  of  settlements  up  the 
Hudson  and  tlie  Mohawk,  and  was  little  exjMjsed  to  attack 
except  at  its  northern  end.  which  was  guarded  by  the  forti- 
fied town  of  Albany,  with  its  outlying  posts,  and  by  the 
friendly  and  warlike  Mohawks,  whose  "  castles  "  were  close 
at  hand.     Thus  New  Englanu  had  borne  the  heaviest  brunt 

21 


;^ 


:)-"2 


The  Struggle  for  a  Contiiu-iu      I1745  "755 

(i|  tlif  |>n'cc(iirii»  \v;i:>i,  in't  i.nly  !>>  tlu'  fun  ,  I'lii  also  Itv 
llif  M'ii;  fi.i  till'  I'lTinli  nf  Aradiii  nini  (a  •  llretou  con- 
frunH'tl  litT  c.iast.aiiil  .slif  was  nitcii  ai  1>1'  vs  with  iIhmii. 
Ki^^liliiiji  hail  l'«'i'ii  a  ncct'ssily  with  Iut,  ain  she  hail  na-t 
ihe  t'liurjii'iicy  alter  a  iiu'lhiid  cxlit'iiu'lv  di'lt'clivi',  hut  Mn- 
ht'st  that  ciivuiiistaiui's  would  inTMiit.  lla\  iujr  im  liaiiu-d 
ulli(r:>'  and  no  (li.sciiiliiH'i!  soldiers,  and  hi'inj;  100  imioi  In 
niaint  .  r.  I'ithiT,  slu'  borrowed  her  warriors  from  tlie  work- 
shop and  llie  |ilou<,di,  and  oflicered  them  witli  law 'ers,  mer- 
chants, niet'hanics,  or  i'arinei-s.  To  c'(»nii>are  them  with  good 
regular  troojis  would  lie  folly;  I'ut  they  did,  on  the  whole, 
belter  than  oould  have  heen  ex|iecte<l,  ami  in  the  la^X 
war  aehieveil  the  brilliant  success  of  the  capture  of  l/aiis- 
bourg.  This  exploit,  due  partly  to  native  hardihood  and 
partly  to  good  hu  k,  ;,neatly  enhanced  the  military  repute  of 
New  Kngland.  or  rat  In  r  was  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  it. 

Til  Treat  colonv  of  V'rginia  stoinl  in  strong  contrast  to 
New  England  In  both  the  ,  ipulation  was  English;  but 
the  one   was  '■^:    v,  uli    i'jundhead  traditions,  and  the 

other,  so  far  a  .•• '.j  -  'J  its  governing  class,  Ani'lican  with 
Cavalier  tradi'  "^  li  the  one,  every  man,  . uinau,  and 
child  could  icail  .  :u  write;  in  the  oiLi.t.  Sir  William 
Uerkeley  once  thanked  Ood  that  there  \>."('  ;'  uee  schools, 
and  no  prospect  of  any  for  a  ceuturv.  The  hoj)e  had  found 
fruition.  The  lower  c^isses  of  Vuf:inia  were  as  untaught 
as  the  warmest  friein'  ■  i  popular  ignorance  Lould  wish.  New 
England  had  a  nativi  iiteratuie  more  than  respectable  luider 
the  circumstances,  while  Vi.-ginia  had  none;  numerous  in- 
dustries, while  Virginia  was  'I  agriculture,  with  Kit  a  single 
crop;  a  homogeneous  society  .ii  ■  a  democratic  spirit,  while 
her  rival  was  an  aristocracy.  V  .  _'inian  society  was  distinctly 
stratified.     Ou  the  lowest  level  were  the  negro  slaves,  nearly 


32  3 


»745  1755)    The  Thirteen  British  Colonies 

as  II'  inetiius  as  all  tlu-  rt'sL  luat'lluT;  n.xt.  ihe  imlniiU-ti  st-r- 
vaiil     and  llic  [...m- whiU-s,  i»f  low  ..i  i^iii,  «"<>«i-liuin<)it!(l,  l«ut 
boisterous,  and  sonielinies  vkiinjs;  ni-xt,  llie  small  and  dti- 
»|)isi'd  class  of  tra<lesna'n  and  niechanifs  ;  next,  llu!  farmers 
and  lesser  planters,  \vli<»  were  mainly  i>f  go.id  Knylisli  stuck, 
and  who  merged  insensibly  into  the  ruling  class  of  tlie  gitiut 
landowners.     It  was  these  last  win.  rei-resented  the  cub.ny 
and   made  the   laws.     They   may    be  described    as    Knglisb 
country  sijuin  s  transplanted  to  a  warm  climate  and  turned 
.slave-masters.     They  sustained  their  position  l>y  entails,  and 
constantly   undermined  it  by  the   reckless  prutiisii.n  which 
ruined  them  at  last.     Mai\y  (.f  them  weR^  well  born,  with 
an  inimen.se  pride  of  descent,  increased  by  the  haliit  dI  dom- 
ination.    Indolent  and  energetic  by  turns;   rich  in  natural 
gifts  and  often  p(Mir  in  book-learning,  though  some,  in  the 
lack  of  go(Hl  teaching  at  home,  hail  Iuh'u  bred  in  the  Kngllsh 
universities;  high-spirited, generous  to  a  fault;  keeping i.jHin 
house  in  their  capacious  mansions,  among  vast  tobacco-tields 
and  toiling  negroes,  and  living  in  a  run  ■  jK)mp  where  the 
fashions  of  St.  James  were  somesvhat  oddly  grafted  on  the 
rougbness  of  the  jlantation,  —  what  they  wanted  in  scliool- 
i'lg  was  supplied  by  an  education  which  books  alone  would 
have  l>een  imp)tent  to  give,  the  education  which  came  with 
the  possession  and  exercise  of  p<tlitical  power,  and  the  sens-j 
of  a  positii>n  to  maintain,  joined  to  a  bold  spirit   cf   inde- 
pen  lence  and  a  patriotic  attachment  to  the  Old  Dominion. 
They  were  few  in  number;  they  raced,  gambled,  drank,  and 
swore ;  they  did  everything  that  in  Puritan  eyes  was  most 
reprehensible ;  and  in  the  day  of  need  they  gave  the  United 
Colonies  a  body  of  statesmen  and  orators  which  liad  no  ecpial 
on  the  continent.     A  vigorous  aristocracy  favors  the  grov.it, 
of  j)ersonal  eminence,  even  in  those  who  are  not  of  it,  but 
only  near  it. 


324  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1745-1755 

The  essential  antaf,'<iiiisiii  of  Virj,'iiiia  ami  New  Kngland 
was  afterwards  to  Itcjcoiiie,  and  to  remain  for  a  century,  an 
element  of  the  first  influence  in  American  history.  Each 
might  have  learned  nuich  from  the  other;  hut  neither  did 
so  till,  at  last,  the  strife  of  their  contending  principles  shook 
the  continent.  I'ennsylvania  differed  widely  from  both. 
She  was  a  conglomerate  of  creeds  and  races,  —  English, 
Irisli,  (Jermans,  Dutch,  and  Swedes;  Quakers,  Lutherans, 
I'lesbyterians,  liomanists,  Moravians,  and  a  variety  of  non- 
descript sects.  The  (^hiakers  prevailed  in  the  eastern  dis- 
tricts ;  (juiet,  industrious,  virtuous,  and  serenely  obstinate. 
The  (Jermans  were  strongest  towards  the  centre  of  the 
colony,  and  were  chietly  peasants ,  successful  farmers,  but 
dull,  ignorant,  and  superstitious.  Towards  the  west  were 
the  Irish,  of  whom  some  were  Celts,  always  (piarrelling  with 
their  (Jerrnan  neighbors,  who  .letested  them  ;  but  the  greater 
part  were  I'rolestnnts  of  Sc  )tch  descent,  from  Ulster;  a  vig- 
orous l)ordor  po])ulation.  Virginia  and  New  England  had 
each  a  strong  distinctive  character.  Pennsylvania,  with  her 
heterogeneous  population,  had  none  but  that  which  .she  owed 
to  the  sol)er  neutral  tints  of  Quaker  existence.  A  more 
thriving  colony  there  was  not  on  the  continent.  Life,  if 
monotonous,  was  smooth  and  contented.  Trade  and  the  arts 
grew.  Philadelphia,  next  to  Boston,  was  the  largest  town  in 
IJritish  America;  and  was,  moreover,  the  intellectual  centre 
of  the  middle  and  southern  colonies.  Unfortunately,  for  her 
credit  in  the  approaching  war,  the  Quaker  uiHuence  made 
Pennsylvania  non-combatant.  Politically,  too,  she  was  an 
anomaly  ;  for.  though  utterly  inifeudal  in  dis})osition  and 
character,  she  was  under  feudal  su])eriors  in  the  persons 
of  the  repre.'ientatives  of  William  Peuu,  the  original 
grantee. 


m 


325 


i745-«755l       The  Thirteen  British  Colonies 

Ni'w  York  li;i(l  ii"l  as  yet  nwlii'tl  the  relalive  im»niineiu-o 
wliidi  her  j^eoiriaiiliical  iiosilinii  and  iiiheient  strenjjlh  ofler- 
waitls  gave  lier.  The  English,  joined  to  the  Dutch,  the 
original  settlers,  were  the  dominant  i^pulat ion;  hut  a  half- 
sf'f)re  of  other  languages  were  spoken  in  the  province,  the 
chief  among  them  lieing  that  of  the  Huguenot  French  iu  the 
southern  parts,  and  that  of  the  (irermans  on  the  Mohawk. 
Ill  religion,  the  province  was  divided  between  the  Anglican 
Church,  with  government  sui>port  and  popular  dislike,  and 
numerous  dissenting  sects,  chietly  Lutherans,  Independents, 
rresl)yterians,  and  mend)ers  of  the  Dutch  Kefornied  Church. 
The  little  city  of  New  York,  like  its  great  successor,  was  the 
most  cosmopolitan  place  on  the  continent,  and  probably  the 
gayest.  It  had,  in  abundance,  balls,  concerts,  theatricals, 
and  evening  clubs,  with  plentiful  dances  and  other  amuse- 
ments for  the  poorer  classes.  Thither  in  the  winter  months 
came  the  great  hereditary  proprietors  on  the  Hudson;  for 
the  old  Dutch  feudality  still  held  its  own.  Pennsylvania 
was  feudal  in  form,  and  not  in  spirit ;  Virginia  in  spirit,  and 
not  in  form;  New  England  in  neither;  and  New  York 
largely  in  both.  This  social  crystallization  had,  it  is  true, 
many  opponents.  In  politics,  as  in  religion,  there  were 
sharp  antagonisms  and  freijuent  (pianels.  They  centred  in 
the  city;  for  in  the  well-stocked  dwellings  of  the  Dutch 
farmers  along  the  Hudson  there  reigned  a  trancpiil  and 
prosperous  routine;  and  the  Dutch  border  town  of  Albany 
had  not  its  like  in  America  for  unrutHed  conservatism  and 
quaint  picturesqueness. 

Of  the  other  colonies,  the  briefest  mention  will  suffice: 
New  Jersey,  with  its  wholesome  population  of  fiirmers; 
tobacco-growing  Maryland,  which,  but  for  it.«  proprietary 
government  and  numerous  Roman  Catholics,  might  pass  for 


326  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent        [«7*s  1755 

another  Virginia,  iiitViior  in  «,'r.i\vlli,  und    less    decisive  in 
features;  Deluwiuv,  a  inndost  ai)i.enda';e  .)l"   IVnnsylvaniiH ; 
wild  and  rude  North  Carolina;  and,  larlhi-r  on,  South  <  uro- 
lina  and  (;eor»fia,  '00  remote  t'rt»ni  the  seat  of  war  to  take  a 
noteworlliy  part  in  it.     The  altitude -f  these  various  colonies 
towards  fa<-h  other  is  liar.lly  conceiva'de  to  an  Americiin  of 
ihe  present  time.     They  luid  no  pi.litieal  tie  e.xi-epl  aeounnoii 
allegiance  to  the  British   Crown.     Communication   between 
tliem  was  ditlieult  and  shnv,  hy  rough   roads  traced    often 
through  primeval  forests.     l>etween  some  of  them  there  was 
less  of  sympatliy  than  of  jealousy    kindled    hy  contlicliivj? 
interests  or  perpetual  disputes  concerning  boundaries.     The 
patriotism  of  the  colonist  was  boumled  Ity  the  lines  of  his 
government,  ex(.'.ept  in  the  comiiact  and  kindred  colonies  uf 
N'ew  England,  which  were  socially  unite(;,  though  politically 
distinct.     The  country  of  the  New   Vorker  was  X(n\r  York, 
and  the  country  of  the  Virginian  was  Virginia.     The  New 
England  colonies  had  once  confederated;    but,  kindred   if 
they  were,  they  had  long  ago  dropjied  apart.     William  Fenn 
proix)sed  a  plan  of  colonial  union  wholly  fruitl«««.     .fame.-! 
II.  tried  to  unite  all  the  northern  coh.nies  under  on«  govern- 
ment ;  but  the  attempt  came  to  naught.     Kiieh  stood  aloof, 
jealously  independent,     At  rare  intervals,  under  the  pressure 
of  an  emergency,  some  of  them  would  try  to  act  in  concert; 
and,  except  in  New  England,  the  results  had  been  most  dis- 
couraging.    Nor  was  it  this  segregation  only  that   unfit) i-d 
them  for  war.     They  were  all  subject  to  jwjtular  legislatures, 
through  whom  alone  money  and   men  could  be  raised ;  and 
these    elei'tive  bodies  were  .sometimes   factious  and  selfish, 
and  not  always  either  tar-sighted  or  reasonable.     Moreover, 
llu'v  were  in  a  state  of  i  easeless  friction  with  their  governors, 
who  represented  the  king,  or,  what  was  worse,  the  feudal 


1745  «755]       The  Thirteen  British  Colonies         32" 

{•nii.rielan'.  Those  diMputes,  thoujih  varyiii«,'  in  intensity, 
were  found  everywhere  cxrepl  in  the  two  siiiall  cohmies 
whi<'h  .'hose  their  own  j,'overnors ;  and  they  were  premoni- 
li.nsof  the  movement  towards  independem^e  wliieh  ended 
in  the  war  of  Kevolution.  Tlie  occasion  of  dilFerenee  niat- 
if  red  litlh'.  Active  or  latent,  tlie  (luanel  was  always  present, 
ll  was  siire  to  arise  whenever  some  itiiliiii-  crisis  gave  the 
representatives  of  the  i)eople  an  ojii^ortiinity  of  extortin}^ 
.•oncessit)ns  from  the  rei»iesentative  of  the  Crown,  or  gave 
ihe  representative  of  the  Crown  an  opjtortunity  to  gain  a 
IK.ini  t(.i  prerogative.  That  is  to  say,  the  time  when  action 
was  most  needed  was  the  time  eln»sen  for  obstructing  it. 

In  Canaila  there  was  no  jwpular  legislature  to  embarrass 
I  he  central  power.  The  i)eople,  like  an  army,  obeyed  the 
s-ord  of  command,— a  military  advantage  beyond  all  i)rice. 
Divided  in  government;  divided  in  origin,  feelings,  and 
j»rinciples;  jealous  of  each  other,  jealous  of  the  Crown;  the 
people  at  war  with  the  executive,  and,  by  the  fermentation 
f>f  internal  politics,  blinded  to  an  outward  danger  that  seeme«l 
remote  and  vague,  —  such  were  the  conditions  under  which 
the  British  colonies  drifted  into  a  war  that  was  to  decide  the 
late  of  the  continent. 

This  war  was  the  strife  of  a  united  antl  concentred  few 
a<nunst  a  divided  and  discordant  many.  It  was  the  strife, 
too,  of  the  ])ast  against  the  future ;  of  the  old  agamst  the 
new ;  of  moral  and  intellectual  torpor  against  moral  and  in- 
tellectual life ;  of  barren  absolutism  against  a  liberty,  crude, 
incoherent,  and  chaotic,  yet  full  of  prolific  vitality. 

[The  French  i.i  their  advance  by  way  of  the  Ohio  Valley 
had  been  careful  to  conciliate  the  western  tribes.  They  now 
began  assiduously  to  cultivate  the  friendship  of  the  hxxpiois. 


1 


328  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  r«749 

III  llic  war  iif  171")  "The  Kivo  Xalituis  "  yii-ldcil  but  cold 
ami  dnultlfui  aiil  Id  tlicir  Kn^'lish  allit's,  ami  fears  were 
entertaiiu'd  of  ilicir  iinal  estraiigeineut.  —  Ku.] 


This  resiill'  became  si  ill  more  iniminont.when,  in  the  year 
1749,  ihe  FroiK'h  ])riesL  l*i(iiK'l  established  his  mission  of 
Ia\  rrt^seiitation  on  the  St.  Lawrenee,  at  the  site  of  Ojfdens- 
bur^:;.  This  pious  father,  like  the  martial  churchmen  of  an 
earlier  day,  deemed  it  no  scandal  to  gird  on  earthly  armor 
against  the  enemies  of  the  faith.  He  built  a  fort  and 
founded  a  settlement;  he  nnistcred  tlie  Indians  about  him 
from  far  and  near,  organized  their  governments,  and  mar- 
shalled their  \var-]iarties.  From  the  (renelle<i  walls  of  lus 
mission-house  the  warlike  ajiostle  could  look  forth  upon  a 
military  colony  of  his  own  creating,  upon  farms  and  clear- 
ings, while  Canadian  cabins,  and  the  bark  hxlges  of  Indian 
hordes  which  he  had  gathered  under  his  ])rotecling  wing.  A 
chief  object  of  the  settlement  was  to  form  a  barrier  against  the 
English  ;  but  the  ]iurpose  dearest  to  the  missionary's  heart  was 
to  gain  over  the  InHpiois  to  the  side  of  France ;  and  in  this  he 
succeeded  so  well,  that,  as  a  writer  of  good  authority  declares, 
the  number  of  their  warriors  within  the  circle  of  his  hifluence 
surpassed  the  whole  remaining  force  of  the  confederacy. 

Thoughtful  men  in  the  English  colonies  saw  with  anxiety 
the  growing  defection  of  the  Iroquois,  and  dreaded  lest,  in 
the  event  of  a  war  with  France,  her  ancient  foes  might  now 
be  found  her  friends.  But  in  this  ominous  conjuncture,  one 
strong  influence  was  at  work  to  bind  the  confederates  to 
their  old  alliance ;  and  this  influence  was  wielded  by  a  man 
so  remarkable  in  his  chara.'ter.  and  so  conspicuous  an  actor 
in  the  scenes  of  the  ensuing  histor}',  as  to  demand  at  least 
some  passing  notice. 

1  The  Conspiracy  of  iontiac.  Vol.  I.,  Cli.  III. 


17341 


Sir  William  Ji)hnson 


329 


SIR   WTLUAM   -lOlINSON' 


Anorr  tbf  year  1734,  in  conseqiienne  it  is  said  of  the  hap- 
less issue  nf  a  love  afl'air,  William  .folinson,  a  young  Irish- 
man, came  over  U>  America  at  the  a^e  <if  tiiiu'leeii,  where  he 
assuiut-d  the  ciiarge  of  an 
exteujHve  trai;l  of  wild 
land  m  the  province  of 
Xew  York,  helonging  to 
his  made.  Admiral  Hir 
Peter  Warren.  Settling 
in  the  valley  of  the  Mo- 
hawk, he  carried  on  a 
prosj>erou*  tratlic  with 
til-  Indians:  and  while 
he  rapidly  Pise  to  wesdth. 
he  gaiiiwi,  ai  the  same 
time,  an  extraordinary 
iniluen*'*-  over  ihe  neigh - 
horing  Iroquois.  As  his 
resources  increaseil,  he 
built  twomattoiems  in  the 
valley,  known  res»i:)ectivclv  by  the  names  of  Johnson  Castle 
and  Johnson  Hull,  tlie  iiita*r  of  svhich,  a  well-constructed 
building  of  wood  and  8t(ine.  is  still  i-itandiiig  in  the  village  of 
Johnstown.     Johnson  Castk  was  silaaled  at  some  distance 


»S'/r  H'ltU'im  Jiloisim 


'The  Coniipirac)  of  Pdnliw,  Vol.  I.,  Cii.  III. 


330  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1763 

higher  up  the  river.  Both  were  fortified  against  attack,  and 
the  latter  was  surrounded  witli  cabins  built  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  Indians,  who  often  came  in  crowds  to  visit  the 
proprietor,  invading  his  dwelling  at  all  unseasonable  hours, 
li)itering  in  the  doorways,  spreading  their  blankets  in  the 
]tassages,  and  infecting  the  air  with  the  fumes  of  stale 
tobacco. 

Johnson's  importance  became  so  conspicuous,  tliat  when 
the  French  war  broke  out  in  1755,  he  was  made  a  major- 
general;  and,  soon  after,  the  ccdonial  trooi)S  under  his  com- 
mand gained  the  battle  of  I^ke  Oeorge  against  the  Vrenr-h 
forces  of  Baron  Dieskau.     For  this  success,  for  which  how- 
ever he  was  entitled  to  little  credit,  he  was  raised  to  ihe  rank 
of  baronet,  and  rewarded  with  a  gift  of  five  thousand  jM)un«ls 
from  the  king.     About  this  time,  he  was  a])poinled  suiterin- 
tendent  of  Indian  affairs  for  the  northern  tribes,  a  station  in 
whicli  he  did  signal  service  to  the  coiuitry.     In  1759,  when 
(Icncral  Trideaux  was  killed  by  the  bursting  of  a  .ohoin  in 
the  trenches  before  Niagara,  Johnson  succeeded  to  hi.-^  com- 
mand, routed  the  French  In  another  pitched  battle,  and  soon 
raised  the  red  cross  of  England  on  the  ramparts  of  the  fort. 
After  the  peace  of  1703,  ho  lived  for  many  years  at  Jolinson 
Hall,  constantly  enriched  by  the  increasing  value  of  his  vast 
estate,  and  surrounded  by  a  hardy  Highland  tcnantrj-,  de- 
voted to  liis  interests ;  but  wlicn  the  tempest  which  had  long 
been  brewing  seemed  at  length  about  to  break,  and  signs  of 
a  sjieedy  rupture  with  the  mother  country  thickened  witli 
every    day,  he   stood  wavering  in  an  agony  of   indecision, 
divided  between  his  loyalty  to  the  sovereign  who  was  tlie 
source  of  all  his  liouors,  and  his  reludapce  to  become  the 
agent  of  a  murderous  Indian  warfare  against  his  countrymen 
and  friends.     His  final  resolution  was  never  taken.     In  the 


1774]  Sir  William  Johnson  331 

summer  of  1774,  he  'vas  altai-ked  with  a  sudden  illness,  and 
died  within  a  few  h  'Uis,  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age,  hur- 
ried to  liis  gia^e  l>y  mental  distress,  or,  as  many  believed,  hy 
the  act  of  his  own  hand. 

Nature  had  well  fltted  him  for  the  position  in  which  liis 
l)roi>itious  stars  liad  cast  his  lot.  His  person  was  tall,  erect, 
and  strong;  his  features  grave  and  maidy.  His  direct  and 
upright  dealings,  his  courage,  elo([uen('e,  and  address,  were 
sure  ]iass[)orts  to  favor  in  Indian  eyes.  He  had  a  singular 
facility  of  adaptation.  In  the  camj),  or  at  the  council-lM)ard, 
in  spite  of  his  defective  education,  he  bore  himself  as  be- 
came his  station ;  but  at  home  he  was  seen  drinking  Hip  and 
smoking  tobacco  with  the  Dutch  boors,  his  neighbors,  and 
talking  of  iinproveincnts  (tr  the  price  of  beaver-skins;  while 
in  the  Indian  villages  he  would  feast  on  dog's  flesh,  dance 
with  the  warriors,  and  harangue  his  attentive  auditors  with 
all  the  dignity  of  an  Imquois  .';achem.  His  temper  was 
genial;  he  encouraged  rustic  sjxjrts,  and  was  resi»ected  and 
beloved  alike  by  whites  and  Indians. 

His  good  (pialitics,  however,  were  alloyed  with  serious  de- 
fects. Ilis  mintl  was  as  coarse  as  it  was  vigorous ;  ht  was 
vain  of  his  rank  and  inlluence,  and  being  (piite  free  fnmi  any 
scruple  of  delicacy,  he  lost  no  ojiportunity  of  proclaiming 
them.  His  nature  was  eager  and  ambitious;  and  in  pu.shing 
his  own  way,  lie  was  never  distinguished  by  an  anxious  solic- 
itude for  the  rights  of  others. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  speak,  his  fortunes  had  not 
reached  their  zenith  :  }  ct  his  intluence  was  great ;  and  dur- 
ing the  war  of  174.'>,  when  hi;  held  the  chief  control  of 
Indian  afTairs  in  Xew  York,  it  was  exercised  in  a  niutnu't 
most  l>eneficial  to  the  [►rovince.  After  the  jieace  nf  Aix-la- 
Chajtelle,  in  1748,  linding  his  ineasiues  ill  supported.  In 
threw  up  his  ollic*-  in  disgust.     Si  ill   his   mere   jtersonal  in- 


m 


332  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent      [1745  «755 

fluence  sutliceil  ti»  eiiibarra.ss  the  intrigues  of  the  husy  priest 
at  La  1  losentatioii ;  and  a  few  years  hiU-r,  when  the  imblic 
cxigoufy  ileniandeil  his  utmost  ell'orts,  he  lesunietl,  under 
hi'tttT  ausiiices,  tin-  otlicial  niauiigenient  of  Indian  aflairs. 

Ami  iinw,  when  the  Idindest  muld  see  that  between  the 
rival  <  laiinants  to  ihi-  soil  df  America  nothing,'  was  left  but 
tiie  arliitratinn  nf  lln'  swonl,  no  man  friendly  t<>  the  cause 
«»f  Ku'dand  coidd  obst^rve  witlit»ui  alarm  Imw   France  had 

strenjftlieiu'd  herself  in 
Indian  allianci's.  The 
Iro(|U(>is,  ii  is  true,  had 
not  ijnilc  goiu^  over  to 
her  side ;  nor  had  the 
Delawarcs  win  illy  fiirg< it- 
ten  tluir  ancient  league 
with  William  I'cui  The 
Miamis.tiiu,  in  llie  valley 
of  the  ( >liio,  had  lately 
taken  umlmige  at  the 
conduct  of  the  {•'rench, 
and  betrayed  a  leaning 
to  the  siile  of  Kngland, 
■while  several  tribes  of 
the  south  showed  a  sinu- 
lar  disposition.  lUit,  with  few  and  slight  exceptions,  the  nu- 
merous tribes  of  the  great  lakes  and  the  Mississipi)i,  besides 
a  host  of  dom'eiliateil  savages  in  Canada  itself,  stood  ready 
at  the  bidding  of  France  to  grind  their  tomahawks  and  turn 
loose  their  ravenous  war-iiarties;  while  the  I'.rilish  adonists 
had  too  much  reason  to  fear  that  even  those  tribes  which 
seemed  most  friendly  to  their  cause  ai\d  which  formed  the 
sole  barrier  of  their  unprotect.'d  borders,  nught,  at  the  first 
pound  of  the  war-whoo]),  be  found  in  arms  against  them. 


William  Penn 


1700-1753]    Collision  of  the  Rival  Colonies 


333 


COLUSiOX  OF  THE   KIVAL   COLONIES,'  ITOO-lToS 

TiiK  people  of  the  noiiheni  Knj^lish  colonies  had  learned  to 
regard  their  Canadian  neighbors  with  the  biti'  ^t  enmity. 
With  them,  the  very  name  of  Canada  called  up  h.-rrihle  rec- 
ollections ami  ghastly  images:  the  midniglit  massacre  of 
Schenectady,  and  the  desolation  of  many  a  Xew  England 
liaiukt ;  blazing  dwellings  and  rocking  scalps;  and  children 
snatched  from  their  mothers'  arms,  to  be  inuniired  in  con- 
vci;.  un  I  trained  up  in  tlic  abominations  of  I'upery.  To  the 
"•>;  •  uf  ihe  I'uritaus,  their  enemy  wa.'-j  doul)ly  odi(jus.  They 
l.altu  him  as  a  Frenchman,  and  they  hated  him  as  a  Papist. 
Hitherto  he  had  waged  his  murderous  warfare  from  a  dis- 
tance, wasting  their  settlements  with  rapid  onsets,  tierce  and 
transient  as  a  summer  storm;  but  now,  with  enter|)rising 
audacity,  he  was  intrencliing  himself  on  their  sery  bonUMs. 
The  English  hunter,  in  tlie  londv  wilderness  nf  Vermont,  as 
by  the  warm  glow  of  sunset  he  jiiled  the  spnic(=  boughs  I'or 
his  woodland  bed,  started  as  a  decii,  low  sound  struck  faintly 
on  his  ear,  the  evening  gun  of  Fort  Frederic,  booming  over 
lake  and  forest.  The  ereidion  of  this  fort,  l)etter  known 
among  the  English  as  Crown  Point,  was  a  piece  of  daring 
encroachment  whitih  justly  kuidled  resentment  in  the  north- 
em  colonics.  15ut  it  was  not  here  that  the  immediate  occa- 
sion of  a  liiid  rui)ture  was  to  arise.  l>y  an  article  of  the 
treaty  of  (Tt;  -lu,  confirmed    by  that   of   Aix-la-Chapelle, 

»  xhv  C  Msi.iracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Cli.  IV. 


i 


m 


11  f, 


334  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  Im" 

Acadia  had  been  rvdvd  to  Knf,'liind  ;  Imt  saircoly  was  the 
hitler  treaty  sij^iud,  wla-n  .K-baies  simint,'  up  tuuchin^,'  the 
limits  of  tlic  (TiU'd  iiroviuce.  Comnii.ssiuiK'rs  were  iiaiiicil 
«»n  cither  side  u>  adjust  the  di>iiiiled  hi.iindary  ;  but  the 
tdainis  nf  tlie  rival  jHiwers  proved  utterly  invroiu' liable,  and 
all  lu'^'otiation  was  fruith-ss.  Meantime,  the  French  and 
En<,dish  forces  in  Acadia  be<,'an  to  assume  a  belligerent  at- 
titude, and  indulge  liieir  ill  bloml  in  mutual  aggression  and 
reprisal.  Hut  while  this  game  was  played  on  the  coasts  of 
the  Atlantic,  interests  of  far  greater  moment  were  at  stake 
in  the  West. 

The  people  «)f  the  middle  colonies,  placed  by  their  local 
position  k^yond  reach  of  the  French,  had  heard  with  great 
composure  of  the  sulVerings  of  their  New  Fjigland  brethren, 
and  felt  little  concern  at  a  danger  so  doubtful  and  remote. 
There  were  those  among  them,  however,  who  with  greater 
foresight  had  been  (piick  to  perceive  the  ambitious  projects 
of  the  rival  nation;  and,  as  early  as  171 G,  Spotswood,  gov- 
ernor of  Virginia,  had  urged  the  exi)ediency  of  securing  the 
valley  of  the  Ohio  by  a  series  of  forts  and  settlements.  His 
projKtsal  was  coldly  received,  and  his  plan  fell  to  the  ground. 
The  time  at  length  was  come  when  the  danger  was  approach- 
ing too  near  to  be  slighted  huiger.  In  1748,  an  association, 
called  the  Ohio  Company,  was  formed  with  the  view  of  mak- 
ing settlements  in  the  region  beyond  the  AUeghanies ;  and 
two  years  later.  Gist,  the  company's  survejor,  to  the  great 
disgust  of  the  Indians,  carried  chain  and  compass  down  the 
Ohio  as  far  as  the  falls  at  Louisville.  But  so  dilatory  were 
the  English,  that  before  any  cifeclual  steps  were  taken,  their 
agile  enemies  appeared  upon  the  sceue. 


IMI 


«753] 


Mission  of  Washington 


335 


MISSION   OF   WASH  IXC. TON 

1\  tlie  Njiring  nf  1753,  the  middle  provinces  were  startled  at 
the  titlinj^s  that  French  truops  had  crossed  Like  Krie,  for- 
tified themselves  at  the  jmint  of  I'restiu'-Isle,  and  puslu'd 
fttrward  to  the  northern  branches  of  tiieOhio.  {'\Hn\  this, 
Goveiuor  iJinwiddie,  of  Virtrinia,  resolved  to  despatch  a 
message  reijuiring  their  re- 
moval from  territories  which  / 
he  claimed  as  belonging  to  the  ,  ■'!  '■ 
British  Crown ;  and  looking  A^ 
about  him  for  the  person  best 
(jualiticd  to  act  as  messenger, 
he  made  chni'-e  of  Ceorge 
Wasliington,  a  young  man 
twenty-one  yeais  of  age,  adju- 
tant-general of  the  Virginian 
militia. 

Washington  departed  on  his 
mission,  crossed  the  mountains, 
descended  to  the  bleak  and  lealU'ss  valley  of  the  Ohio, 
and  thence  continued  his  journey  u]!  the  l)anks  of  the  Alle- 
ghany until  the  f(nnth  of  December.  On  that  day  he 
reached  Venango,  an  Indian  town  on  the  Alleghany,  at  the 
mouth  of  French  Creek.  Here  was  the  advanced  jtost  of  the 
J'rench  ;  and  here,  among  tlie  Indian  log-cabins  and  huts  of 
bark,  he  saw  their  Hag  flying  above  tlie  house  of  an  English 


O'^mir   tl',iihii"ll"ii 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  21 


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^  APPLIED  IN/MGE     I 

^?^  1653   Eosl    Mam    SIrjel 

S^S  Rochester.    New    Yorl.  U609        USA 

"-SS  (716)   482  -  OJOO  -  Phone 

^S  C'^'   288  -  5989  -  Fox 


I. 


336  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1754 

trader,  whom  the  militcory  intruders  had  unceremoniously 
ejected.  They  gave  tlie  young  envoy  a  hospitable  reception, 
and  referred  him  to  the  vomnianding  officer,  whose  head- 
quarters were  at  Le  Jloeuf,  a  fort  whicli  they  had  just  built 
on  French  Creek,  some  distance  above  Venango,  Thither 
Washington  repaired,  and  on  his  arrival  was  received  with 
stately  courtesy  by  the  othcer,  Legardeur  de  St.  Pierre,  whom 
he  describes  as  an  eldnly  gentleman  of  very  soldier-like 
appearance.  To  the  message  of  Dinwiddie,  St.  Pierre  replied 
that  he  would  forward  it  to  the  governor-general  of  Canada  ; 
but  that,  in  tlie  mean  time,  his  orders  were  to  hold  possession 
of  the  country,  and  this  he  sliould  do  to  the  best  of  his  abil- 
ity. Witli  this  answer  AN'ashington,  througli  all  the  rigors 
of  the  midwinter  forest,  retraced  his  steps,  with  one  atten- 
dant, to  the  English  borders. 

With  the  first  o|)ening  of  spring,  a  newly  raised  company 
of  Virginian  backwoodsmen,  under  Captain  Trent,  hastened 
acr«)ss  the  mountains,  and  began  to  build  a  fort  at  the  con- 
fluence of  the  Monongahela  and  Alleghany,  where  Pittsburg 
now  stands ;  when  suddenly  they  found  themselves  invested 
by  a  host  of  French  and  Indians,  who,  with  sixty  bateaux 
and  three  hundred  canoes,  had  descended  from  Le  Bceuf  and 
Venango.  The  English  were  ordered  to  evacuate  the  spot; 
and,  being  (i[uile  unable  to  resist,  they  obeyed  the  summons, 
and  withdrew  in  great  discomfiture  towards  Virginia.  Mean- 
while Washington,  with  another  party  of  backwoodsmen, 
was  advancing  from  the  holders;  and,  hearing  of  Trent's 
disaster,  he  resolved  to  fortify  himself  on  the  Monongahela, 
and  hold  his  ground,  if  possible,  until  fresh  troops  could 
arrive  to  support  him.  Tlie  French  sent  out  a  scouting  party 
under  M.  Jiimonville,  with  the  design,  probably,  of  watcliing 
his  movements ;  but,  on  a  dark  and  stormy  night,  Washing- 


^<MKiS&.'' 


17541  Mission  of  Washington  337 

ton  surprised  tluMii,  as  tliey  lay  lurkiiif,'  in  a  rocky  glen  not 
far  from  his  camp,  killed  the  otticer,  and  captured  the  whole 
detachment.  I^arninj,'  that  the  French,  enntged  by  this 
reverse,  were  about  to  attack  him  in  great  force,  he  thought 
it  prudent  to  fall  back,  and  retired  accorduigly  to  a  spot 
called  the  Ctreat  Meadows,  where  he  had  before  thrown  up 
a  slight  intrenchment.  Here  he  found  himself  assailed  by 
nine  hundred  French  and  Indians,  commanded  by  a  brother 
of  the  slain  Jumonville.  Fnun  eleven  in  the  morning  till 
eight  at  night,  the  backwoodsmen,  who  were  half  famished 
from  the  failure  of  their  stores,  maintained  a  stubborn 
defence,  some  fighting  within  the  intrenchment,  and  some  on 
the  plain  without.  In  the  evening,  the  French  sounded  a 
jiarley,  and  offered  terms.  T!>ey  were  accepted,  and  on  the 
following  day  Washington  and  his  men  retired  across  the 
mountains,  leaving  the  disputed  territory  in  the  hands  of 
the  French. 


22 


33^ 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1754 


ALARM   OF  THE   INDIANS » 


Whilk  the  rival  nations  were  bcfjinning  to  quarrel  for  a 
jtrize  which  belonged  tt»  neither  of  them,  the  unhappy  Indians 
saw,  with  alarm  and  amazement,  their  lauds  becoming  a  bone 
of  contention  between  nipacious  strangers.  The  first  apjiear- 
ance  of  the  French  ou  tlie  Ohio  excited  the  wildest  fears  in 
the  tril)es  of  that  (piarler,  among  whom  were  those  who,  dis- 
gusted by  the  encroachments  of  the  Penusylvauians,  had 
tied  to  these  remote  retreats  to  escape  the  intrusions  of  the 
white  men.  Scarcely  was  their  fancied  asylum  gained,  wlien 
tliey  saw  themselves  invaded  by  a  host  of  armed  men  from 
Canada.  Tluis  placed  between  two  fires,  they  knew  not 
whicli  way  to  turn.  There  was  no  union  in  their  counsels, 
and  they  seemed  like  a  mob  of  bewildered  children.  Their 
native  jealousy  was  roused  to  its  utmost  pitcli.  Many  of 
tliem  thought  that  the  two  white  nations  had  conspired  to 
destroy  them,  and  then  divide  tlieir  lands.  "  You  and  the 
Fren(!h,"  said  one  of  tliem,  a  few  years  afterwards,  to  an 
English  emissary,  «  are  like  the  two  edges  of  a  pair  of  shears, 
and  we  are  the  cloth  which  is  cut  to  pieces  between  them." 

The  French  labored  hard  to  conciliate  them,  plying  them 
with  gifts  and  flatteries,  and  proclaiming  themselves  their 
champions  against  the  English.  At  first,  these  arts  seemed 
in  vain,  but  their  effect  soon  began  to  declare  itself;  and 
this  effect  was  greatly  increased  by  a  singular  piece  of  infat- 

»  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  IV. 


«754] 


Alarm  of  the  Indians 


339 


nation  nu  the  jmit  of  the  |)roitiietois  of  rennsylvania.  Dur- 
ing the  sumnuT  of  1 7r)4,  tlek'}rates  of  the  several  provinces 
met  at  Albany,  to  concert  measures  of  defence  in  the  war 
which  now  seemed  inevitable.  It  was  at  tliis  meeting  that 
the  memorable  plan  of  a  unit)n  of  the  colonies  was  brought 
forward ;  a  plan,  the  fate  of  which  was  curious  and  signifi- 
cant, for  the  Crown  rejected  it  as  giving  too  nmch  i)ower  to 
the  iieople,  and  the  i»eople  as  giving  too  nmch  }»ower  to  the 
Crown.  A  council  was  also  held  with  the  Irocpiois,  and 
though  they  were  found  but  lukewarm  in  their  attachment 
to  the  Englisli,  a  treaty  of  friendship  and  alliance  was  con- 
cluded with  their  deputies.  It  would  have  been  well  if  the 
matter  had  ended  here;  but,  with  ill-timed  rapacity,  the 
proprietary  agents  of  Pennsylvania  took  advantage  of  this 
great  assemblage  of  sachems  to  procure  from  them  the  grant 
of  extensive  tracts,  including  the  lands  inhabited  by  the 
very  tribes  whom  the  French  were  at  that  moment  striving 
to  seduce.  When  they  heard  that,  without  their  consent, 
their  conquerors  and  tyrants,  the  Irofjuois,  had  sold  the  soil 
from  beneath  their  feet,  their  indignation  was  extreme ;  and, 
convinced  that  there  was  no  limit  to  English  encroachment, 
many  of  them  from  that  hour  became  fast  allies  of  the 
I'rencli. 


flpl 

I 


)40  The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent  [1755 


TIIK   FIIJST   SHOT   FIHEI)' 

The   emits  (.f   London  and    Versailles  ,stUl   maintained   a 
diplomatic  inteit-ourse,  Jx.th   protesting    their  earnest  wish 
that  their  conllictiivg  claims  might  he  adjusted  hy  friendly 
negotiation;  but  while  each  disclaimed  the  intention  of  hos- 
tdity,  both  wc^re  hastening  to  i)iei)aie  for  war.     Early  in 
1755,  an  English  Heet  sailed  from  ('ork,  luiving  on  board  two 
regiments  destined  f..r  Virginia,  and  commanded  by  CJeneral 
Braddock ;  and  soon  after,  a  Fiench  fleet  put  to  sea  from  the 
p(.rt  of  Brest,  freighted  with  munitions  of  war  and  a  strong 
body  of  troops  under  IJaron  Dieskau,  an  oliicer  who  had  dis*^ 
tinguished  himself  in  the  camjaigns  of  Marshal  Saxe.     The 
English  fleet  gained  its  destination,  and  landed  its  troops  in 
safety.     The  French  wcie  less  fortiuiate.     Two  (.f  their  shiits, 
the  "  Lys"  and  the  "  Alci.le,"  became  involved  in  the  fogs  of 
the  banks  of  Newfoundland;   and  when  the  weather  cleared, 
they  found  themselves  under  tlie  guns  of  a  superior  BritMi 
force,  bel.jnging  to  the  S(juadron  of  Admiral  l5os-awen,  sei.t, 
out  for  the  expiess  purjiose  of  intercepthig  them.     "Are  we 
at  peace  or  war  T'  demanded   the  French  commander.     A 
broadsi.le  from  the  Englishman  soon  solved  his  doubts,  and 
after  a  sti>ut  resistance  the  French  struck  their  c.;lors.     Xews 
of  the  capture  caused  great  excitement  in  England,  but  the 
conduct  of  the  aggressors  was  generally  approved ;  am]  under 

*  Tlie  Conspiracy  of  I'oiitiac,  Vol.  I.,  Cli.  IV. 


17551 


The  P'irst  Shot  Fired 


341 


pretence  that  tlie  Fieiu'h  liail  liejfiiii  the  war  by  tlieir  allej^ed 
encmafhnients  in  America,  orders  were  issued  ft)r  a  general 
attack  upon  their  marine.  So  successful  were  llie  llritish 
cruisers,  that,  l)el'ore  tlie  end  of  the  year,  three  hundred 
Frencli  vessels  and  nearly  eiglit  thousand  sailors  weie  cajt- 
tured  rnd  hmugiit  into  port.  The  French,  unahle  to  retort 
in  kind,  raised  an  outcry  of  indignation,  and  Mirepoix  their 
ambassador  withdrew 
from  the  court  of  Lon<lon. 
Thus  began  that  mem- 
orable war,  which,  kind- 
ling among  the  forests 
of  America,  scattered  its 
Hres  over  the  kingdoms 
of  Europe,  and  the  sultry 
empire  of  the  (treat  Mo- 
gul ;  the  war  made  gloii- 
ous  by  the  heroic  death 
of  Wolfe,  the  victories  of 
Frederic,  and  the  exploits 
of  Clive;  the  war  which 
controlled  the  destinies 
of  America,  and  was  first 
in  the  chain  of  events 
which  led  on  to  her  Revolution  with  all  its  vast  and  un- 
developed consequences.  ()n  the  old  battle-ground  of 
Europe,  the  contest  bore  the  same  familiar  features  of  vio- 
lence and  horror  which  had  marked  the  strife  of  former 
ger.erations  —  fields  ploughed  by  the  cannon  ball,  and  walls 
shattered  by  the  exploding  mine,  sacked  towns  and  blazing 
suburbs,  the  lamentations  of  women,  and  the  license  of  a 
maddened  soldiery.     But  in  America,  war  assumed  a  new 


Lord  ('live 


342  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1755 

ami  striking  asitt'ct.  A  wildoriu'ss  was  its  sulilime  aroiia. 
Army  met  army  umU'r  the  ^lunlows  of  primeval  woods;  their 
camion  resoundetl  ov  r  wastes  uiikiiown  to  civilized  man. 
And  before  the  h«)stile  powers  could  join  in  l»attle,  endless 
forests  must  he  traversed,  and  morasses  passed,  antl  eveiy- 
where  the  axe  of  the  pioneer  must  hew  a  path  for  the  bayo- 
net of  <he  soldier. 


'7551 


Braddock's  March  and  Defeat 


343 


BKADDOCK'S   MAHCH   AND   DEFEAT* 


Before  the  dei'lamtinii  of  war,  and  l)ef»»re  the  breaking  "fT 
<»f  negotiations  between  the  courts  of  France  and  England, 
the  English  ministry  fornieil  the  jilan  of  assailing  the  French 
in  America  on  ail  sides  at  once,  and  repelling  them,  by  (»ne 
bold  i»ush,  from  all  their  encroachments.  A  provincial  army 
was  to  advance  ui)on  Acadia,  a  second  was  to  attack  Crown 
I'oint,  and  a  thiril  Niagara  ;  while  the  two  regiments  which 
had  lately  arrived  in  Virginia  nnder  General  Bradd(K;k,  aided 
by  a  strong  body  of  prcvincials,  were  to  dislodge  the  French 
from  their  newly  built  fort  of  I)u  Quesne.  To  Braddock 
was  assigned  the  chief  command  of  all  the  British  forces  in 
America;  and  a  person  worse  fitted  for  the  office  could 
scarcely  have  been  found.  His  experience  had  been  ample, 
and  none  could  doubt  his  courage;  but  he  was  profligate, 
arrogant,  perverse,  and  a  bigot  to  military  rules.  On  his 
first  arrival  in  Virginia,  he  called  together  the  governors  of 
the  several  provinces,  in  oriler  to  t:;;  '.lin  his  instructions  and 
adjust  the  details  of  the  projected  operations.  These  ar- 
rangements complete,  Braddock  advanced  to  the  borders  of 
Virginia,  and  formed  his  camp  at  Fort  Cumberland,  where 
he  spent  several  weeks  in  training  the  raw  backwoodsmen, 
who  joined  him,  into  such  discipline  as  they  seemed  capable 
of ;  in  collecting  horse  and  wagons,  which  could  only  be  had 
with  the  utmost  difficulty  ;  in  railing  at  the  contractors,  who 

»  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  IV. 


I:: 


' 


344  The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent  I1755 

.scanilaliiusly  chcaU'd  him;  and  in  vonliii^'  his  spleen  l.y 
cojiiidis  abuse  of  the  ((tuntiy  and  the  pcoph-.  All  at  len<rtli 
was  ri-ady,  and  early  in  .June,  IT-m,  the  army  left  eivili/atinn 
beliind,  and  struck  into  (lie  broad  wilderness  as  a  siiuadron 
puts  out  to  sea. 

It  was  no  easy  task  to  force  tlieir  way  over  that  ruj,'^M'd 
ground,  covereii  with  an  unbroken  growth  of  forest;  and  the 
ditlicully   was   increased    bv   the  needless  load    of    ba">-i'a"e 
which  encund)ered  their  march.     The  crash  of  tailing  trees 
resoundetl  in   the  front,  where  a  hundred  axemen  lalmreil 
with   ceaseless    toil  to  hew  a  passage    for  the  army.     The 
liorses  strained  their  utmost  strength  to  drag  the  ponderous 
wagons  over  roots  and  stumiis,  through  gullies  and   <|uag- 
iiiires;  and  the   regular  troops  were  daunted  by  the  tle]ith 
and  gloom  of  the  forest  which  hedged  them  in  on  either 
hand,  and   closed    its   leafy  arches  above  their  heads.     So 
tedious  was  their  progress,  that,  by  Lne  advice  of  Washing- 
ton, twelve  hundred  chosen  men  moved  on  in  advance  with 
the  lighter   baggage  and  artillery,  leaving  the  rest  of  the 
army  to  follow,  by  slower  .stages,  with  the  heavy  wagons. 
On  the  eighth  of  July,  the  advanced  body  reached  the  :\Io- 
nongahela,  at  a  jxiint  not  far  distant  frcun  Fort  du  Quesne. 
The  rocky  and   im])racticaltle  grountl  on    the   eastern  side 
debarred  their  passage,  and  the  general  resolved  to  cross  the 
river  in  search  of  a  smoother  path,  and  recross  it  a  few  miles 
lower  down,  in  order  to  gain  the  fort.     The  first  passage  was 
easily  made,  and  the  troop.s  moved,  in  glittering  array,  down 
the  western  margin  of  the  water,  rejoicing  that  their  goal 
was  well-nigh  reached,  and  the  hour  of  their  expected  triumph 
close  at  hand. 

Scouts  and   Indian  runners  had  brought  the  tidings  of 
Braddock's   approach   to   the   French   at   Fort   du   Quesne. 


»755] 


Braddock's  March  and  Defeat 


345 


Their  disniay  was  f(rfiit,  ami  (,'i»iitfec(Kur,  the  cominantler, 
thought  only  of  relicut,  w  hi'ii  IVaujoii,  a  cai>taiu  iu  the  gar- 
rison, made  the  bold  jirojiosal  of  leatliiig  out  a  party  of 
French  and  Indians  to  waylay  liie  Knglish  in  the  wtHxls,  and 
harass  it  inlerruiil  their  march.  Tlio  offer  was  accepted,  and 
Heaujeu  hast'^ned  to  the  Indian  camps. 

Arountl  the  fort  and  heneiith  the  adjacent  forest  were  the 
liark  lodjfes  of  savaj^e  hordes,  whom  the  French  had  mus- 
teretl  from  far  and  near; 
Ojibwas  and  Ottawas,  Hu- 
rons  and  Caughnawaj^as, 
Aoenakis  and  Delawares. 
lleaujeu  called  the  warriors 
together,  Hung  a  hatchet  on 
the  ground  liefore  them,  and 
invited  them  to  follow  him 
out  to  battle ;  but  the  boldest 
stood  aghast  at  the  peril,  antl 
none  would  accept  the  chal- 
lenge. A  second  interview 
took  place  with  no  better  suc- 
cess ;  but  the  Frenchman  was 
resolved    to  carry  his  point. 

"  I  am  determined  to  go,"  he  exclaimed.  "  What,  will  \  u 
suffer  your  father  to  g<i  alone?"  Ilia  daring  proved  co! 
*a<''it)us.  The  warriors  hesitated  no  longer;  and  when,  on 
the  morning  of  the  ninth  of  July,  a  scout  ran  iu  with  ihe 
news  that  the  Knglish  army  was  but  a  few  miles  distant, 
the  Indian  cami»s  were  at  once  astir  with  the  turmoil  of  prep- 
aration. Chiefs  harangued  their  yelling  followers,  braves 
bedaubed  themselves  with  war-paint,  smeared  themselves 
with  grease,  hung  feathers  in  their  scalp-locks,  and  whooped 


Beaujeii 


II 


It^ 


III 


346  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  11735 

aiiil  .siainiK!<l  till  tlioy  liml  wrought  tlieni»elve»  into  a  delirium 
of  valor. 

That  luorning,  James  Smith,  an  Knglish  iirisoner  reccritly 
captured  on  the  frontier  of  reunsylvania,  stood  on  the  ram- 
part, and  saw  the  half-fi-enzieil  multitude  thronging  about 
the  gateway,  where  kegs  of   bullets  and   guuiK)wder  were 
broken  oiK-n,  that  caih  might  help  himself  at  will.     Then 
band  after  band  hastened  away  towards  the  forest,  followed 
and  supiMjrted  by  nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  French  and 
Cauadian.s,  commanded  by  Beaujeu,     There  were  the  Otta- 
was,  led  on,  it  is  said,  by  the  remarkable  man  whose  name 
stands  on  the  title-page  of  this  history  ; »    there  were  the 
Ilurons  of  Lorette  under  their  chief,  whom  the  French  called 
Athanase,  and  many  more,  all  keen  as  hounds  on  the  scent 
of  blood.     At  about  nine  miles  from  the  fort,  they  reached  a 
spot  where  the  narrow  road  descended  to  the  river  through 
deep  and  gloomy  woods,  and  where  two  ravines,  concealed 
by  trees  and  bushes,  seemed  formed  by  nature  for  an  am- 
buscade,    lieaujeu  well  knew  the  ground;  and  it  was  here 
that  he  had  resolved  to  fight;  but  he  and  his  followers  were 
well-nigh  too  late ;  for  as  they  neared  the  ravines,  the  woods 
were  resounding  with  the  roll  of  the  British  drums. 

It  was  past  noon  of  a  day  brightened  with  the  clear  sun- 
light of  an  American  midsummer,  when  the  forces  of  Brad- 
dock  began,  for  a  second  time,  to  cross  the  Monongahela,  at 
the  fording-place,  which  to  this  day  bears  the  name  of  their 
ill-fated  leader.  The  scarlet  columns  of  the  liritish  regulars, 
complete  in  martial  ai.p>intment,  the  rude  backwoodsmen 
with  shouldered  rifles,  the  trains  of  artilleiy  and  the  white- 
topped  wagons,  moved  on  in  long  procession  through  the 
.^hallow  current,  and   slowly  mounted  the  opposing   bank. 

'  Pontiac. 


1755]  Braddock's  March  and  Defeat  347 

Men  were  there  whose  uaim'.s  have  beconto  historic.  Gage, 
wlio,  twenty  years  later,  saw  \m  routeil  battalions  recoiknl  in 
disorder  from  before  the  breastwork  on  IJunker  Hill;  Gates, 
the  future  concjueror  of  Ikirgoyne ;  and  one  destined  to  a 
liigher  fame,  —  George  Washington,  a  boy  in  years,  a  man  in 
calm  thought  and  self-ruling  wisdom. 

With  steady  and  well-ordered  march,  the  troops  advanced 
into  the  great  labyrinth  of  w(mhI'1  ■  'iLh  shadowed  the  east- 
ern borders  of  the  river.  IJar  rank  vanished  from 
sight.  The  forest  swallowed  th.  .  r/,and  the  .silence  of  the 
wilderness  sank  dc^wn  once  more  on  tl>e  shores  and  waters 
of  the  Monongahela. 

Several  engineers  and  guides  and  six  light  horsemen  led 
the  way ;  a  bo'ly  of  grenadiers  under  Gage  was  close  behind, 
and  the  army  followed  iii  such  order  as  the  rough  ground 
would  i)ermit,  along  a  narrow  road,  twelve  feet  wide,  tun- 
nelled through  the  dense  and  matted  foliage.  There  were 
flanking  parties  on  either  side,  but  no  scouts  to  scour  the 
woods  in  front,  and  with  an  insane  confidence  Braddock 
pressed  on  to  -eet  his  fate.  The  van  had  passed  the  low 
grounds  that  dered  the  river,  and  were  now  ascending  a 
gently  lisiri:^  giound,  where,  on  either  hand,  hidden  by  thick 
trees,  i;  v  tangled  undergrowth  and  rank  grasses,  lay  the  two 
fatal  n  vmes.  Suddenly,  Gordon,  an  engineer  in  advance, 
saw  the  Frendi  and  Indians  bounding  forward  through  the 
forest  and  along  the  narrow  track,  Beaujeu  leading  them  on, 
dressed  in  a  fringed  hunting-shirt,  and  wearing  a  silver  gor- 
get on  his  breast.  He  stopped,  turned,  and  waved  hin  hat, 
and  his  French  followers,  crowding  across  the  road,  opened  a 
murderous  fire  upon  the  head  of  the  Briti.sh  column,  while, 
screeching  their  war-cries,  the  Indians  thronged  into  the 
ravines,  or  crouched  behind  rocks  and  trees  on  both  flanks  of 


' 

T1 

)3M 

!'  1 

! 
]  ■ 

i  i 

n 

I  - 

i  - 


H 


348  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [175s 

the  advancing  troops.  The  astonished  grenadiers  returned 
the  fire,  and  returned  it  with  good  effect ;  for  a  random  shot 
struck  down  tlie  brave  IJeaujeu,  and  the  courage  of  the  as- 
sailants was  staggered  hy  his  fall.  Dumas,  second  in  com- 
mand, rallied  them  to  the  attack ;  and  while  he,  with  tlie 
French  and  Canadians,  made  good  the  pass  in  front,  the 
Indians  from  their  lurking  ]ilaces  opened  a  deadly  fire  on 
the  right  and  left.  In  a  few  moments,  all  was  confusion. 
The  advance  guard  fell  back  on  the  main  body,  and  every 
trace  of  subordination  vanished.  The  tire  soon  extended 
along  the  whole  length  of  the  army,  from  front  to  rear. 
Scarce  an  enemy  could  be  seen,  though  the  forest  resounded 
with  their  yells ;  though  every  bush  and  tree  was  alive  with 
incessant  flashes  ;  though  the  lead  flew  like  a  hailstorm,  and 
the  men  went  down  by  scores.  The  regvdar  troops  seemed 
bereft  of  their  senses.  Tlioy  huddled  together  in  the  road 
like  flocks  of  sheep ;  and  happy  did  he  think  hira.self  who 
coidd  v\edge  his  way  into  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  and  place 
a  barrier  of  human  flesh  between  his  life  and  the  shot  of  the 
aml)ushed  marksmen.  Many  were  seen  eagerly  loading  their 
muskets,  and  then  firing  them  into  the  air,  or  shooting  their 
own  comrades  in  the  insanity  of  their  terror.  The  officers, 
for  the  most  part,  disjilayed  a  conspicuous  gallantry;  but 
threats  and  commands  were  wasted  alike  on  the  panic- 
stricken  multitude.  It  is  said  that  at  the  outset  IJraddock 
showed  signs  of  fear ;  but  he  soon  recovered  his  wonted 
intrepidity.  Five  horses  were  shot  under  him,  and  five 
times  he  mounted  afresh.  He  stormed  and  shouted,  and, 
while  the  Virginians  wore  fighting  to  good  pin-pose,  each 
man  beliind  a  tree,  like  the  Indians  themselves,  he  ordered 
them  witli  furious  menace  to  form  in  platoons,  where  the  fire 
of  the  enemy  nKJwed  them  down  like  grass.     At  length,  a 


17551  Braddock's  March  and  Defeat  349 

mortal  shot  silenced  him,  aiul  two  provincials  bore  him  off 
the  field.  Washington  rode  through  the  tumult  calm  and 
undaunted.  Two  horses  were  killed  under  him,  and  four 
bullets  pierced  his  clothes;  but  his  hour  was  not  come,  and 
he  escai)ed  without  a  wound,  (iates  was  shot  through  the 
body,  and  (iage  also  was  severely  wounded.  Of  eighty-six 
oHicers,(iidv  twentv-lhree 
remained  unhurt ;  and  of 
twelve  hundred  soldiers 
who  crossed  the  Monon- 
gahela,  more  than  seven 
hundred  were  killed  and 
wounded.  None  suffered 
more  severely  than  the 
Virginians,  who  had  dis- 
played throughout  a  de- 
gree of  courage  and 
steadiness  which  put  the 
cowardice  of  the  regulais 
to  shame.  The  havoc 
among  them  was  terrible, 
for  of  their  whole  num- 
ber scarcely  one-fifth  left 
the  field  alive. 

The    slaughter    lasted 
three    hours ;    when,    at 

length,  the  survivors,  as  if  impelled  by  a  general  impulse, 
rushed  tumultuously  from  the  ]ilace  of  carnage,  and  with 
dastardly  precipitation  iled  acnws  the  Monongahela.  The 
enemy  did  not  pursue  beyond  the  river,  flocking  back  to  the 
field  to  collect  the  plunder,  and  gatlici'  a  rich  harvest  of  scalps. 
The  routed  troops  pursued  their  flight  until  they  met  the  rear 


Death  of  Brathhick 


ii 

in 


1:1 


350  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1753 

divisi(m  of  the  army,  under  Colonel  Dunbar ;  and  even  then 
their  sensele.'i.s  terrors  did  not  abate.  Dunbar's  soldiers 
caught  the  infection.  Cannon,  baggage,  provisions,  and 
wagons  were  destroyed,  and  all  fled  together,  eager  to  esca])e 
from  the  shadows  of  those  awful  woods,  whose  horrors 
haunted  their  imagination.  They  passeil  the  defenceless 
settlements  of  the  border,  and  hurried  on  to  Tluladelphia, 
leaving  the  unhapjty  people  to  defend  themselves  as  they 
might  against  the  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife. 

The  calamities  of  tliis  disgraceful  rout  did  not  cease  with 
the  loss  of  a  few  hundred  soldiers  on  the  Held  of  battle;  for 
it  brought  upon  the  pnjvinces  all  the  miseries  of  an  Indian 
war.  Those  among  the  tribes  who  had  thus  far  stood  neutral 
wavering  between  the  French  and  English,  now  hesitated 
no  longer.  Many  of  them  had  been  disgusted  by  tlie 
contemptuous  behavior  of  IJraddock.  All  had  learned  to 
despise  the  courage  of  tlie  English,  and  to  regard  their  own 
prowess  with  unbounded  complacency.  It  is  not  in  Indian 
nature  to  stand  quiet  in  tlie  midst  of  war ;  and  tiie  defeat 
of  liraddock  was  a  signal  for  the  western  savages  to  snatch 
their  tomahawks  and  assail  the  English  settlements  with  one 
accord,  murdering  and  pillaging  with  rutldess  fury,  and  turn- 
ing the  frontier  of  Tennsylvania  and  Virginia  int(j  one  wide 
scene  of  havoc  and  desolation. 


I 


1755]  Acadia,  Niagara,  Crown  Point  351 


ACADIA,   XIAGAIIA,  AND    CROWN    rOIXT— THE 
r.ATTLE   OF   LAKK   GEORGE' 

The  three  roiiiaiiiing  exi>eilitions  wiiich  the  IJritisli  ministry 
had  planned  for  tliat  year's  canii>aign  were  attended  with 
various  results.  Acadia  was  quickly  reduced  hy  the  forces 
of  Colonel  Monckton ; 
hut  the  glories  of  this 
easy  victory  were  tar- 
nished by  an  act  of 
cruelty.  Seven  thousand 
of  the  unfortunate  peo- 
ple, refusing  to  take  the 
p';escrihed  oath  of  alle- 
giance, were  seized  by  the 
conquerors,  torn  from 
their  homes,  placed  on 
shii)lxjard  like  cargoes  of 
negro  slaves,  and  trans- 
ported to  the  British  prov- 
inces. The  expedition 
against  Niagara  was  a 
total  failure,  for  the 
troops     did     not     even  Col.  lUeH  Ma,tcltm 

reach    their   destination. 

The  movement  against  Crown  Point  met  with  no  better  suc- 
cess, as  regards  the  main  object  of  the  enterprise.     Owing 


>  The  Conspiracy  of  Poiitiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch   'V. 


is 


if 


352  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1755 

to  the  lateness  of  the  season,  and  other  causes,  the  troops 
proceeded  no  farther  than  Lake  George;  but  the  attempt 
was  marked  by  a  feat  of  arms,  which,  in  that  day  of 
failure,  was  greeted,  both  in  England  and  America,  as  a 
signal  victory. 

(Jeneral  Johnson,  afterwards  Sir  "William  Johnson,  ha<l 
been  charged  with  the  conduct  of  the  Crown  Point  exjiedi- 
tion  ;  and  his  little  army,  a  rude  assemblage  of  hunters  and 
farmers  from  Xew  York  and  New  England,  officers  and  men 
alike  ignorant  of  war,  lay  encamped  at  the  southern  extrem- 
ity of  Lake  George.  Here,  wliile  they  languidly  pursued 
their  preparations,  their  active  enemy  anticipated  them. 
Baron  Dieskau,  who,  with  a  body  of  troops,  had  reaclitd 
Quebec  in  the  squadron  which  sailed  from  Brest  in  tlie 
spring,  had  intended  to  take  forcible  possession  of  the  Eng- 
lish fort  of  Oswego,  erected  upon  ground  claimed  by  the 
French  as  a  part  of  Canada.  Learning  Johnson's  move- 
ments, he  changed  his  plan,  crossed  Lake  Champlain,  made 
a  circuit  by  way  of  Wood  Creek,  and  gained  the  rear  of  the 
English  arm} ,  with  a  force  of  about  two  thousand  French 
and  Indians.  At  midnight,  on  the  seventh  of  September, 
the  tidings  reached  Johnson  that  the  army  of  the  French 
baron  was  but  a  few  miles  distant  from  his  camp.  A  council 
of  war  was  called,  and  the  resolution  formed  of  detaching  a 
thousand  men  to  reconnoitre.  "  If  they  are  to  be  killed," 
said  Hendrick,  the  Mohawk  chief,  "  they  are  too  many ;  if 
they  are  to  fight,  they  are  too  few."  His  remonstrance  was 
unheeded ;  and  the  brave  old  savage,  unable  from  age  and 
corpulence  to  fight  on  foot,  mounted  his  horse,  and  joined  the 
Ei^lish  detachment  with  two  hundred  of  his  warriors.  At 
suiuise,  the  party  defiled  from  the  camp,  and  entering  the 
forest  disapiHjared  from  the  eyes  of  thuir  comrades. 


■■  i 


ll  i 


1755]  Acadia,  Niagara,  Crown  Point  353 

Those  who  remained  liehind  labored  with  all  the  energy 
of  alarm  to  fortify  their  unprotected  camp.  An  hour  elapsed, 
when  f.om  the  distance  was  heard  a  sudden  explosion  of 
musketry.  The  excited  soldiers  suspended  their  work  to 
listen.  A  rattUng  fire  succeeded,  deadened  among  tlie  woods, 
but  growing  louder  and  nearer,  till  none  could  doubt  that 
their  connades  had  met  the  French,  and  were  defeated. 

This  was  indeed  the  case,    i^-^rching  through  thick  woods, 
by  the  nairow  and  newly  cut  njud  which  led  along  the  valley 
southward  from  Lake  George,  Williams,  the  English  com- 
mander, had  led  his  men  f  -.  .nto  an  ambuscade,  where  all 
Dieskau's   army  lay  in  wait  to  receive   them.     From   the 
woods  on  botli  sides  rose  an  appalling  shout,  followed  by  a 
storm  of  bullets.     Williams  was  sojn  slot  down;  Hendrick 
shared  his  fate ;  many  officers  fell,  and  the  road  was  strewn 
with  dead  and  wounded  soldiers.     The  English  gave  way  at 
once.     Had  they  been  regular  troop?,  the  result  would  have 
been  worse ;  but  every  man  was  a  woodsman  and  a  hunter. 
Some  retired   in  bodies  rlong  the  road;  while  the  greater 
part  spread  themselves  through  the  forest,  opposing  a  wide 
front  to  th?  citemy,  fighting  stubbornly  af.  they  retreated,  and 
shooting  back  at  the  French  from  behind  every  tree  or  bush 
that  cou!u   afford  a   cover.      The   Canadians  and   Indians 
pre  sed  them  closely,  darting,  with  shrill  cries,  from  tree  to 
tree,  while  Dieskau's  regulars,  with  steadier  advance,  bore  all 
before  them.     Far  and  wide  through  the  forest  rang  shout 
and  shriek  and  Indian  whoop,  ming'         ith  the  deadly  rattle 
of  guns.     Retreating  and  pursuing,   ..le  combatants  passed 
northward  towards  the  English  camp,  leaving  the  ground 
behind  them  strewn  with  dead  and  dying. 

A  fresh  detachment  from  the  camp  came  in  aid  of  the 
English,  and  the  pursuit  was  checked.     Yet  the  retreating 

23 


<  •( 


I  ;    i 


♦ 


354  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1755 

men  were  not  the  less  rejoiced  when  tliey  could  discern, 
hetween  the  brown  colutuns  of  tlie  woods,  the  niountains 
and  waters  of  Lakw  George,  w  .th  the  white  tents  of  their 
encampments  on  its  shore.  Tlie  French  followed  no  farther. 
Tlie  blast  of  their  trumpets  was  heard  recalling  their  scat- 
tered men  for  a  final  attack. 

During  the  absence  of  Williams's  f^'^tachment,  tlie  main 
botly  of  the  army  had  c(jvered  the  front  of  their  carni*  with 
a  breastwork,  —  if  that  name  can  be  applied  to  a  row  of  logs, 
—  behind  which  the  marksmen  lay  flat  on  their  faces.  This 
preparation  was  not  yet  complete,  when  the  defeated  troops 
appeared  issuing  from  the  wo(kIs.  Breathless  and  perturbed, 
they  entered  the  camp,  and  lay  down  with  the  rest ;  and  the 
army  waited  the  attack  in  a  fi-ame  of  mind  which  boded  ill 
for  the  result.  Soon,  at  the  edge  of  the  woods  wliich  bor- 
dered the  open  space  in  front,  painted  Indians  were  seen, 
and  bayonets  glittered  among  the  foliage,  shining,  in  the 
homely  comparison  of  a  New  P^ngland  soldier,  like  a  row  of 
icicles  on  a  January  morning.  The  French  regulars  marched 
in  column  to  the  edge  of  the  idearing,  and  formed  in  line, 
confronting  the  Kngliih  at  the  distance  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  yards.  Their  complete  order,  their  white  uniforms  and 
bristling  bayonets,  were  a  new  and  startling  sight  to  the  eyes 
of  Johnson's  rustic  soldiers,  who  raised  but  a  feeble  cheer  in 
answer  to  the  shouts  of  their  enemies.  Happily,  Dieskau 
made  no  assault.  The  regulars  opened  a  distant  fire  of  mus- 
ketry, tlirowing  volley  after  volley  against  the  English,  while 
the  Canadians  and  Indians,  dispersing  through  the  morasses 
on  each  flank  of  the  camp,  firod  sharply,  under  cover  of  the 
trees  and  bushes.  In  the  rear,  the  English  were  protected 
by  the  lake ;  but  on  the  three  remaining  sides,  they  were 
hedged  in  by  the  flash  and  smoke  of  musketry. 


17581  Acadia,  Niagara,  Crown  Point  355 

The  fire  of  the  French  had  little  effect.     The  English  re- 
covered from  their  first  surprise,  and  every  moment  their 
confidence  rose  higher  and  their  shouts  grew  louder.     Level- 
ling   their  long    hunting  gims   with   cool   precision,  they 
returned  a  fire  which  thinned  the  ranks  of  the  French,  and 
galled   them   beyond   endurance.     Two   cannon   were   soon 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  morasses  which  sheltered  the  Cana- 
dians and  Indians ;  and  though  the  pieces  were  served  with 
little  skill,  the  assailants  were  so  terrified  by  the  crashing  of 
the  balls  among  the  trunks  and  branches,  that  they  gave  way 
at  once.    Dieskau  still  persisted  in  the  attack.    From  noon 
untU  past  four  o'clock  the  firing   vas  scarcely  abated,  when 
at  length  the  French,  who  had  suffered  extremely,  showed 
signs  of  wavering.     At  this,  with  a  general  shout,  the  Eng- 
lish broke  from  their  camp,  and  rushed  upon  their  enemies, 
striking  them  down  with  the  butts  of  their  gims,  and  driving 
them  through  the  woods  like  deer.     Dieskau  was  taken  pris- 
oner, dangerously  wounded,  and  leaned  for  support  against 
the  stamp  of  a  tree.    The  slaughter  would  have  been  great, 
had  not  the  English  general  recalled  the  pursuers,  and  suf- 
fered the  French  to  continue  their  flight  unmolested.     Fresh 
disasters  still  awaited  the  fugitives  ;  for,  as  they  approached 
the  scene  cf  that  morning's  ambuscade,  they  were  greeted  by 
a  volley  of  musketry.     Two  companies  of  Isew  York  and 
New  Hampshire  rangers,  who  had  come  out  from  Fort  Ed- 
ward as  a  scouting  party,  had  lain  in  wait  to  receive  them. 
Favored  by  the  darkness  of  the  woods,—  for  night  was  now 
approaching,  —  they  made  so  sudden  and  vigorous  an  attack, 
that  the  French,  though  far  suijerior  in  number,  were  totally 
routed  and  dispersed. 

This  memorable  conflict  has  cast  its  dark  associations  over 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  America.     Near  the  scene 


£ 


35^  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1758 

of  the  evening  fight,  a  \kh>\,  half  overgrown  by  weeds  and 
water  lilies,  and  daikened  hy  the  surrounding  forest,  is 
pointed  out  to  the  tourist,  and  he  is  told  that  l)eneath  its 
stagnant  waters  lie  the  bon-'S  of  three  hundred  Frenchmen, 
deep  buried  in  n)ud  and  slime. 

The  war  thus  begun  was  prosecuted  for  five  succeeding 
years  with  the  full  energy  of  both  nations.  The  i)eriod  was 
one  of  suffering  and  anxiety  to  the  colonists,  who,  knowing 
the  full  extent  of  their  danger,  spared  no  exertioi  to  avert  it. 
In  the  year  1758,  Lord  Abercrombie,  who  then  commanded 
in  America,  had  at  his  disposal  a  force  amounting  to  fifty 
thousand  men,  of  whom  the  greater  part  were  provincials. 
The  operations  of  the  war  embraced  a  wide  extent  of  coun- 
try, from  Cape  Breton  and  Nova  Scotia  to  the  sources  of  the 
Ohio ;  but  nowhere  was  the  contest  so  actively  carried  on  as 
in  the  neighborhood  of  I^ke  George,  the  waters  of  which, 
joined  with  those  of  Lake  Champlain,  formed  the  main 
avenue  of  communication  between  Canada  and  the  British 
provinces.  Lake  George  is  more  than  thirty  miles  long,  but 
of  width  so  slight  that  it  seems  like  some  broad  and  placid 
river,  enclosed  between  ranges  of  lofty  mountains  ;  now  con- 
tracting into  narrows,  dotted  with  islands  and  shadowed  by 
cliffs  and  crags,  now  spreading  into  a  clear  and  open  expanse. 
It  had  long  been  known  to  the  French.  The  Jesuit  Isaac 
Jogues,  bound  on  a  fatal  mission  to  the  ferocious  Mohawks, 
had  reached  its  banks  on  the  eve  of  Corpus  Christi  Day,  and 
named  it  Lac  St.  Sacrement.  Its  solitude  was  now  rudely 
invaded.  Armies  passed  and  repassed  upon  its  tranquil 
bosom.  At  its  northern  point  the  French  planted  their 
stronghold  of  Ticonderoga ;  at  its  southern  stood  the  Eng- 
lish fort  William  Henry,  while  the  mountains  and  waters 
between  were  a  scene  of  ceaseless  ambuscades,  surprises,  and 


i75»l         Acadia,  Niagara,  Crown  Point  357 

forest  skirmi^ihing.  Throujih  HUinnier  and  winter,  the  crack 
of  rifles  and  the  cries  of  men  gave  no  rest  to  their  echoes ; 
and  at  this  day,  on  the  liehl  of  many  a  forgotten  fight,  are 
dug  up  rusty  tomahawks,  corroded  bullets,  and  human  bones, 
to  attest  the  struggles  of  the  past. 


358 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [its* 


n 
If 


CAMPAIGN   OF   1756. -LOSS  OF  OSWEGO » 

Through  the  spring  and  early  summer  Shirley  '  was  gath- 
ering recruits,  often  of  the  meanest  quality,  and  sending 
them  to  Oswego  to  fill  out  the  two  emaciated  regiments. 
The  place  must  be  defended  at  any  cost.  Its  fall  would 
ruin  not  only  the  enterprise  against  Niagara  and  Fronteuac, 
but  also  that  against  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point ;  since, 
having  nothing  more  to  fear  on  Lake  Ontario,  the  French 
could  unite  their  whole  force  on  Lake  Champlain,  whether 
for  defence  or  attack. 

[The  dreaded  blow  feU  in  August,  1750.  Oswego  was  in 
no  condition  to  withstand  a  siege,  and  Montcalm  attacked  it 
with  a  combined  force  of  three  thousand  Canadians  and 
Indians.  —  Ed.] 

The  principal  work,  called  Old  Oswego,  or  Fort  Tepperell, 
stood  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  on  the  west  side,  nearly 
opposite  Fort  Ontario,  and  less  than  five  hundred  yards  dis- 
tant  from  it.  The  trading-house,  which  formed  the  centre 
of  the  place,  was  built  of  rough  stone  laid  in  clay,  and  the 
wall  which  enclosed  it  was  of  the  same  materials;  both 
would  crumble  in  an  instant  at  the  touch  of  a  twelve-pound 
shot.     Towards  the  west  and  south  they  had  been  protected 

1  Montcalm  and  Wolfe,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  XII. 

»  Shirley  was  Goveinor  of  JIassachnsetts,  and  was  for  a  brief  imiod  Com- 
mander-in-cliief  of  the  forces  iu  America. 


1756]  Loss  of  Oswego  359 

by  an  outer  line  of  earthworks,  mounted  with  cannon,  and 
forming  an  entrenclH'il  camit;  while  the  side  towards  Fort 
Ontario  was  left  wholly  exitosed,  in  the  rash  confidence  that 
this  work,  standing  on  the  opposite  heights,  would  guard 
against  attack  from  that  »iuarter.  On  a  hill,  a  fourth  of  a 
mile  beyond  Old  Oswego,  stood  the  unfinished  stockade 
called  New  Oswogo,  I'ort  George,  or,  by  reason  of  its  worth- 
lessuess.  Fort  Uascal.  It  had  served  as  a  cattle  i>en  Ijefore 
the  French  appeared,  but  was  now  occupied  by  a  hunilred 
and  fifty  Jersey  provincials.  <  )ld  t)swego  with  its  outwork 
was  held  by  Shirley's  regiment,  chiefly  invalids  and  raw 
recruits,  to  whom  were  now  joined  the  garrison  of  Fort 
Ontario  and  a  number  of  sailore,  boatmen,  and  laborers. 

Montcalm  lost  no  time.  As  soon  as  darkness  set  in  he 
began  a  battery  at  the  brink  of  the  lieight  on  which  stood 
the  captured  fort.  His  whole  force  toiled  all  night,  digging, 
setting  gabions,  and  dmgging  up  cannon,  some  of  which  had 
been  taken  from  Braddock.  Before  daybreak  twenty  heavy 
pieces  had  been  brought  to  the  spot,  and  nine  were  already 
in  position.  The  work  had  been  so  rapid  that  the  English 
imagined  their  enemies  to  number  six  thousand  at  least. 
The  battery  soon  opened  fire.  Grape  and  round  shot  swept 
the  intrenchment  and  crashed  through  the  rotten  masonry. 
The  English,  says  a  French  officer,  "  were  exposed  to  their 
shoe-buckles."  Their  artillery  was  pointed  the  wrong  way, 
in  expectation  of  an  attack,  not  from  the  east,  but  from  the 
west.  They  now  made  a  shelter  of  pork-barrels,  three  high 
and  three  deep,  planted  cannon  behind  tliem,  and  returned 
the  French  fire  with  some  effect. 

Early  in  the  morning  Montcalm  had  ordered  Rigaud  to 
crops  the  river  with  the  Canadians  and  Indians.  There  was 
a  ford  three  quarters  of  a  league  above  the  forts ;  and  here 


360  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1756 

they  iMis.seii  over  un<i|i|Nisi'(l,  the  Kiijili.sh  not  having  dismv- 
eie»l  tlie  nioveiiieiil.  The  ni\\y  duiiger  was  fioiii  the  river. 
Some  of  tlie  men  were  t'oired  to  swim,  others  waded  to  the 
waist,  and  otiiers  to  the  neck;  hut  they  all  crosst'd  saftdy, 
and  jireseiitly  showed  themselves  at  the  edj^e  of  the  woods, 
yelling  and  tiring  their  guns,  too  fur  for  mueh  execution,  but 
not  too  far  to  diseourage  the  garris(»n. 

The  garrison  were  already  disheartenefl.     Colonel  IMerecr, 

the  soul  of  the  defence, 
had  Mist  been  cut  in  two 
by  mnon-shot  while 
directing  the  gunners.  Up 
to  tins  time  the  defendei'S 
had  behaved  with  spirit ; 
but  despair  now  seized 
them,  increased  by  the 
screams  and  entreaties  of 
the  women,  t>f  whom 
there  were  more  than  a 
hundred  in  the  place. 
There  was  a  eomicil  of 
ollicers,  and  then  the 
white  flag  was  raised. 
Bougainville  went  to 
pri^pose  terms  of  capitu- 
lation. "  The  cries,  threats,  p.wd  hideous  bowlings  of 
our  Canadians  and  Indians,"  say.s  Vaudreuil,  "made  them 
quickly  decide."  "This,"  ob.«erves  the  Reverend  Father 
Claude  CJodefroy  Coc(iuard, "  remirds  mc  of  the  fall  of  Jeri- 
cho ])efore  the  shouts  of  the  Israelites."  The  Knglish  sur- 
rendered prisoners  of  war,  to  the  number,  according  to  the 
governor,  of  sixteen  hundred,  which  included  the  sailors, 


Cuinte  de  Boiujainville 


I73«] 


Loss  of  Oswego 


361 


lalinivrs,  and  women.  The  CanailiaiiH  and  Indians  broke 
lhrouj,'li  nil  n'stiainl,  and  fell  to  idiindering.  There  was  an 
ojHJiiing  of  nini-liarrels  and  a  seene  of  drunkenness,  in  which 
some  of  the  prisonei-a  had  their  share;  while  others  tried  to 
exeajK^  in  the  eoni'iision,  and  were  tomahawked  by  the  exeiled 
savat^es.  Maiiv  mure  would  have  lieen  butchered,  but  f«»r 
the  efforts  of  Montcalm,  wlio  by  unstinted  jtromises  suc- 
ceetU'd  ill  aiii>t>asiiij;  his  ferocious  allies,  whom  he  dared  not 
ollciid.  "It  will  cost  the  king,"  he  says,  "  eiglit  or  ten 
tliousnnd  livres  in  presents." 

The  loss  on  both  sides  is  variously  given.  By.  .>st 
trustworthy  accounts,  that  of  the  Knglish  did  "  .1  iifty 

killed,  and  that  of  the  French  was  still  less.  i  the  forts 
and  vessels  were  found  above  a  hundred  ])ieces  of  artillery, 
most  of  them  swivels  and  other  light  guns,  with  a  large 
quantity  of  powder,  shot,  and  shell.  The  victors  burned  the 
forts  and  the  vessels  oij  the  stocks,  destroyed  such  provisions 
and  stores  as  they  could  not  carry  away,  and  made  the  place 
a  desert.  The  priest  Tiquet,  who  had  joined  the  e.xpeditiou, 
])lanted  amid  the  ruin  a  tall  cross,  graven  with  the  words, 
In  hoc  sijiio  icniU ;  and  near  it  was  set  a  pole  Itearing  the 
arms  of  France,  with  the  inscription,  Mnnihm  date  lilia 
plenls.  Then  the  array  decarapod,  loaded  witli  prisoners  and 
spoil,  descended  to  Montreal,  hung  the  captured  tiags  in  the 
churches,  and  sang  Te  Deum  in  honor  of  their  triumph. 

It  was  the  greatest  that  the  French  arms  had  yet  achieved 
m  America.  The  defeat  of  Braddock  was  an  Indian  victory ; 
this  last  exploit  was  the  result  of  bold  enterprise  and  skilfid 
tactics.  With  its  laurels  came  its  fruits.  Hated  Oswego 
had  been  laid  in  ashes,  and  the  would-be  r  v^a :>r.ts  forced 
to  a  vain  and  hopeless  defence.  ?■  ranee  hi  c^nqi'' .  .■  ho 
undisputed  command  of  Lake  Ontario,  and    ici  r  uuiiuinii:.  • 


il: 


362  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1756 

tions  with  the  West  were  safe.  A  small  garrison  at  Niagara 
and  another  at  Frontenac  would  now  hold  those  posts  against 
any  effort  that  the  English  could  make  this  year ;  and  the 
whole  French  force  could  concentrate  at  Ticonderoga,  repel 
the  threatened  attack,  and  jierliaps  retort  it  by  seizing  Al- 
bany. If  the  English,  on  the  other  side,  had  lost  a  great 
material  advantage,  they  had  lost  no  less  in  honor.  The 
news  of  the  surrender  was  received  with  indignation  in  Eng- 
land and  in  the  colonies.  Yet  the  beliavior  of  the  garrison 
was  not  so  discreditable  as  it  seemed.  The  ])()sition  was  in- 
defensible, and  they  could  liave  held  out  at  best  but  a  few 
days  more.  They  yiehled  too  soon;  but  unless  Webb  had 
come  to  their  aid,  which  was  not  to  be  expected,  they  must 
have  yielded  at  last. 

The  French  had  scarcely  gone,  when  two  English  scouts, 
Thomas  Hanis  and  James  Conner,  came  with  a  party  of 
Indians  to  the  scene  of  desolation.  The  ground  was  strewn 
with  broken  casks  and  bn  ul  sodden  with  rain.  The  remains 
of  burnt  bateaux  and  whaleboats  were  scattered  along  the 
shore.  The  groat  stone  trading-house  in  the  old  fort  was  a 
smoking  ruin ;  Fort  Itascal  was  still  burning  on  the  neigh- 
boring hill ;  Fort  Ontario  was  a  mass  of  ashes  and  charred 
logs,  and  by  it  stood  two  jKjles  on  whii;h  were  written  words 
which  the  visitors  did  not  understand.  They  went  back  to 
Fort  Jolinson  with  their  story ;  and  Oswego  reverted  for  a 
time  to  the  bears,  foxes,  and  wolves. 


1758]        The  Campaign  of  1757  to  1759         363 


THE   CAMPAIGX   OF   1757  TO   1759  1 

I\  August,  1757,  Mimlcalm  stnick  a  heavier  blow.  Passing 
Lake  George  witii  a  force  of  eiglit  thousand  men,  inchiding 
about  two  thousand  Indians,  gathered  from  the  farthest  parts 
of  Canada,  he  laid  siege  to  Fort  William  Henry,  close  to  the 
spot  where  Dieskau  had  been  defeated  two  years  before. 
Planting  his  batteries  against  it,  he  beat  down  its  ramparts 
and  dismounted  its  guns,  until  the  garrison,  after  a  brave 
defence,  were  forced  to  cajtitulate.  They  marched  out  with 
the  honors  of  war;  but  scarcely  had  they  done  so,  when 
IMontcalm's  Indians  assailed  them.,  cutting  d(nvn  and  scalp- 
ing them  without  mercy.  Those  who  escaped  came  in  to 
Fort  Edward  with  exaggerated  accounts  of  the  horrors  from 
which  they  had  fled,  and  a  general  terror  was  spread  thr(.)ugh 
the  country.  The  inhabitants  were  nuistered  from  all  parts 
to  repel  the  advance  of  Montcalm ;  but  the  French  general, 
satisfied  with  what  he  had  done,  repassed  Lake  George,  and 
retired  behind  the  walls  of  Ticouderoga. 

In  the  year  1758,  the  war  began  to  assume  a  different 
aspect,  for  Pitt  was  at  the  head  of  the  government.  Sir  Jef- 
frey Amherst  laid  siege  to  the  strong  fortress  of  Louisbourg,' 

1  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiar,  Vol.  I.,  Cli.  IV. 

'  The  fall  of  the  French  stronghoKl  was  hailed  in  England  with  noisy  rap- 
ture. Addresses  of  congratulation  to  the  King  poured  in  from  all  the  cities 
of  the  kingdom,  and  the  captured  flags  were  hung  in  St.  Paul's  amid  the  roar 
of  cannon  and  the  shouts  of  the  populace.  The  jirovinces  shared  these 
rejoicings.  Sermons  of  thanksgiving  resounded  from  countless  New  Kugland 
pulpits.  —  Montcalm  and  Wolfe,  Vol.  II.,  Ch.  XIX. 


. 


l^' 


if 


364  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1758 

and  at  length  reduced  it ;  while  in  the  south,  General  Forbes 
marched  against  Fort  du  Quesne,'  and,  more  fortunate  than 
his  predecessor,  Braddock,  drove  the  French  from  that  im- 
portant point.  Another  successful  stroke  was  the  destruc- 
tion of  Fort  Frontcnac,  which  was  taken  by  a  provincial 
ariiiy  under  (Jitlonel  Uradstreet.  These  achievements  were 
counter! lalanced  by  a  great  disaster.  liord  Abercrombie, 
with  an  army  of  sixteen  thousand  men,  advanced  to  the  head 
of  Lake  George,  the  place  made  memorable  by  Dieskau's 
defeat  and  the  loss  of  Fort  William  Henry.  On  a  brilliant 
July  morning,  he  embarked  his  whole  force  for  an  attack  on 
Ticonderoga.  Many  of  those  j)resent  have  recorded  with 
admiration  the  beauty  of  the  spectacle,  the  lines  of  boats 
filled  with  troops  stretcdiing  far  down  the  lake,  the  flashing 
of  oars,  the  glitter  of  weapons,  and  the  nmsic  rmging  back 
from  crags  and  rocks,  or  dying  in  mellowed  strains  among 
the  distant  mountahis.  At  night,  the  army  landed,  and, 
driving  in  the  Frencli  outposts,  marched  through  the  woods 
towards  Ticonderoga.  One  of  their  columns,  losing  its 
way  in  the  forest,  fell  in  with  a  body  of  the  retreating 
French  ;  and  in  the  conflict  that  ensued.  Lord  Howe,  the 
favorite  of  the  army,  was  shot  dead.  On  the  eighth  of  July, 
they  prepared  to  storm  the  lines  which  Montcalm  had  drawn 
across  the  peninsula  in  frf)nt  of  the  fortress.  Advancing  to 
the  attack,  they  saw  before  them  a  breastwork  of  uncommon 
height  and  thickness.     The  French  army  were  drawn  up  be- 

^  If  his  achievement  was  not  lirilliaiit,  its  solid  value  was  above  price.  It 
opened  the  Great  West  to  Eii<,'lish  eiiteipiise,  took  from  France  half  her  savage 
allies,  and  relieved  the  wester?:  liorders  from  the  scourge  of  Indian  war.  From 
Southern  New  York  to  North  Caiolina,  the  frontier  ]iopulatioiis  had  cause  to 
Mess  tlie  memory  of  the  steadfast  and  all-cuduring  soldier.  —  Montcalm  and 
Wolfe,  Vol.  II.,  Ch.  XXII. 


i5 


1758]         The  Campaign  of  1757  to  1759         365 

hind  it,  their  heads  alone  visible,  as  they  levelled  their  mus- 
kets against  the  assailants,  while,  for  a  hundred  yards  in 
front  of  the  work,  the  ground  was  covered  with  felled  trees, 
with  sharpened  branches  pointing  outward.  The  signal  of 
assaidt  was  given.  In  vain  the  Highlanders,  screaming  with 
rage,  hewed  with  their  Itmadswords  among  the  branches, 
struggling  to  get  at  the  enemy.  In  vain  the  English,  with 
their  deep-toned  shout,  rushed  on  in  heavy  colunnis.  A  tem- 
pest of  musket  balls  met  them,  and  Montcalm's  cannon 
swept  the  whole  ground  with  terrible  carnage.  A  few  officers 
and  men  forced  their  way  through  the  branches,  passed  the 
ditch,  climbed  the  breastwork,  and,  leaping  among  the 
enemy,  were  instantly  bayoneted.  The  English  fought  four 
hours  with  determined  valor,  but  the  position  of  the  French 
was  impregnable ;  and  at  length,  havuig  lost  two  thousand 
of  their  number,  the  array  drew  off,  leaving  many  of  their 
dead  scattered  upon  the  field.  A  sudden  panic  seized  the 
defeated  troops.  They  rushed  in  haste  to  their  boats,  arid, 
tliough  no  pursuit  was  attempted,  they  did  not  regain  their 
composure  until  Lake  George  was  between  them  and  the 
enemy.  The  fatal  lines  of  Ticonderoga  were  not  soon  for- 
gotten in  the  provinces ;  and  marbles  in  Westminster  Abl)ey 
preserve  the  memory  of  those  who  fell  on  that  disastrous 
dav. 


|ii 


i  I 


366  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1758 


LORD  IKnVFJ 

Pitt  meant  that  the  actual  eoinniantl  of  the  army  should  be 
in  the  hands  of  r>i  iiradier  Lord  Howe,  and  he  was  m  fact  it3 
real  chief ;  "  the  noltlest  Englishman  that  has   ajipeared  in 

my  time,  and  the  best 
sohlier  in  the  IJritish 
army,"  says  Wolfe.  And 
he  elsewhere  sjteaks  of 
him  as  "  that  great  man." 
Abercrombie  testifies  to 
the  universal  respect  and 
love  with  wluch  officers 
and  men  regarded  him, 
anil  Pitt  calls  him  "  a 
character  of  ancient 
times ;  a  Lomplete  model 
of  military  virtue."  High 
as  this  praise  is,  it  seems 
to  have  been  deserved. 
The  young  nobleman, 
who  was  then  in  his 
thirty-fourth  year,  had 
the  qualities  of  a  leader 
of  men.  Tlic  army  felt  him,  from  general  to  drummer-boy. 
lie  was  its  soul;  and  while  breathing  into  it  his  own  energy 
and  ardor,  and  bracing  it  b}-  stringent  discipline,  he  broke 

>  Montcalm  and  Wolfo.  Vol.  II.,  Ch.  XX. 


Miijiir  Riihrrt  Iioijfrs 


i75«l  Lord  Howe  367 

through  the  traditions  of  the  service  and  gave  it  new  shapes  to 
suit  the  time  and  idai-e.  During  tlie  past  year  he  liad  studied 
tlie  art  of  forest  warfare,  and  jitined  IJogers  and  his  rangers 
in  their  scout ing-j)artifs,  sharing  all  their  hardshi])s  and 
making  himself  one  of  them.  Perhaps  the  reforms  that  he 
introduced  were  fruits  of  this  rough  self-imposed  sch(j(»l- 
ing.  He  made  oflicers  and  men  throw  oil'  all  useless  incum- 
brances, cut  their  hair  close,  wear  leggins  to  protect  them 
from  briers,  brown  the  barrels  of  their  muskets,  and  cany  in 
their  knapsacks  thirty  pounds  of  meal,  which  they  cooked  for 
themselves;  so  that,  according  to  an  admiring  Frenchman, 
they  could  live  a  month  without  their  supply-trains.  "  You 
would  laugh  to  see  the  droll  figure  we  all  make,"  writes  an 
olKcer.  "  Regulars  as  well  as  provincials  have  cut  their  coats 
so  as  scarcely  to  reach  their  waists.  No  officer  or  private 
is  allowed  to  carry  more  than  one  blanket  and  a  bearskin. 
A  small  portmanteau  i.«  allowed  each  officer.  No  women 
follow  the  camp  to  wash  our  linen.  Lord  Howe  has  already 
shown  an  example  by  going  to  the  brook  and  washing  his  own." 

Here,  as  in  all  things,  he  shared  the  lot  of  the  soldier,  and 
required  his  officers  to  share  it.  A  storj'  is  told  of  him  that 
before  the  army  embarked  he  invited  some  of  them  to  dinner 
in  his  tent,  where  they  found  no  seats  but  logs,  and  no  carpet 
but  bearskins.  A  servant  presentlj-  placed  on  the  ground  a 
large  dish  of  pork  and  peas,  on  which  his  lordship  took  from 
his  ix)cket  a  sheath  containing  a  knife  and  fork  and  began  to 
cut  the  meat.  The  guests  looked  on  in  some  embarrassment ; 
upon  which  he  said :  "  Is  it  possible,  gentlemen,  that  you 
have  come  on  this  campaign  with(nit  providing  yourselves 
with  what  is  necessary  ? "  And  he  gave  each  of  them  a 
sheath,  with  a  knife  and  fork,  like  his  own. 

Yet  this  Lycurgus  of  the  camp,  as  a  eontemporary  calls 


368 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 


m' 


him,  is  describfcil  as  a  man  of  social  accomplishments  rare 
even  in  his  rank.  He  made  hiipself  greatly  beloved  by  the 
provincial  oHicers,  with  many  of  whom  he  was  on  terms  of 
intimacy,  and  he  did  what  he  could  to  break  down  the  bar- 
riers between  the  colonial  soldiers  and  the  liritish  re«,'ulars. 
Wlien  he  was  at  Albany,  sharing  with  other  high  olhcers  the 
kindly  hospitalities  of  Mrs.  Schuyler,  he  so  won  the  heart  of 
that  excellent  matron  that  she  loved  him  like  a  son;  and, 
though  not  given  to  such  effusion,  embraced  him  with  tears 
on  the  morning  when  he  left  her  to  lead  his  division  to  the 
lake.  In  Westminster  Abbey  may  be  seen  the  tablet  (»n 
which  MassiU'husetts  pays  grateful  tribute  to  his  virtues,  and 
commemorates  "  the  atlection  her  otUcers  and  soldiers  bore 

to  his  command." 

This  repulse.i  far  from  depressing  the  energies  of  the  Brit- 
ish commanders,  seemed  to  stimulate  tliem  to  new  exertion  ; 
and  the  campaign  of  the  next  year,  175I>,  had  for  its  object 
the  innnediate  and  total  reduction  of  Canada.    This  unhappy 
country  was  fvdl  oi  misery  and  disorder.     Peculation  and 
every  kind  of  corruption  prevailed  among  its  civil  and  mili- 
tary chiefs,  a  reckless  licentiousness  was  increasing  among 
the  iieople,  and  a  general  fanune  seemed  impending,  for  the 
population  had  of  late  years  been  drained  away  for  military 
service,  and  the  iields  were  left  untUled.     In  spite  of  their 
sufferings,  the  Canadians,  strong  in  rooted  antipathy  to  the 
English,  and   highly  excited  by  their  priests,  resolved   on 
fighting  to  the  last.    Prayers  were  offered  up  in  the  churches, 
masses  said,  and  penances  enjoined,  to  avert  the  wrath  of 
God   from  the  colony,  while   everything  was  done  for  its 
defence  which  the  energies  of  a  great  and  patriotic  leader 
could  effect. 

»  Couspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  1.,  Ch.  IV. 


a 


17591 


The  Advent  of  Wolfe 


369 


THK   ADVENT  OF   WOLFKi 


Captain  John  Knox,  of  the  f»rt} -third  regiment,  liad  sj>cnt 
the  winter  of  1758-1759  iu  garrison  at  Fort  Cumberland  on 
the  liill  of  IJeausejour.^ 

Aliout  tlie  middle  of  April  a  schooner  came  up  tlie  bay, 
brinj^ing  letters  that  tilled  men  and  officers  with  delight. 
The  regiment  was  ordered  to  hold  itself  ready  to  embark  for 
Louisbourg  ^  and  j(nn  an  expedition  to  the  St.  I^wrence,  un- 
der command  of  Major-Cleueral  Wolfe.  All  tliat  afternoon 
the  soldiers  were  shouting  and  cheering  in  their  barracks ; 
and  when  they  nmstered  for  the  evening  roll-call,  there  was 
another  burst  of  huzzas.  They  waited  in  expectancy  nearly 
three  weeks,  and  then  the  transports  which  were  to  carry 
them  arrived,  Itringing  the  provincials  who  had  been  hastily 
raised  in  New  England  to  take  their  jdace.  These  Knox 
describes  as  a  mean-looking  set  of  fellows,  of  all  ages  and 
sizes,  and  without  any  kind  of  discipline ;  adding  that  their 
officers  are  s(jber,  modest  men,  who,  though  of  confined  ideas, 

1  Montcalm  and  Wolfe,  Vol.  II.,  Ch.  XXIV. 

"  At  the  head  of  Cliignecto  Bay,  an  arm  of  the  present  Bay  of  Fundy.  —  En. 

'  Louisbourg  was  a  formidable  French  stronghold  upon  the  south  shore  of 
Isle  Uoyalc,  or  Capo  Breton  Island,  and  was  established  to  offset  the  loss  of 
Acadia  which  had  been  ceded  to  En<,'laiid  by  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht  in  1713. 
It  was  captr.red  by  William  Peppi'rrell  and  liis  iliissachtisetts  militia  iu  1745. 
At  the  Peace  of  Aix-la-ChapcUe,  in  October,  1749,  I.ouisboiirf,'  was  once  more 
restored  to  France,  to  the  great  distress  and  indignation  of  tlie  colonies.  In 
175S,  a  British  fleet  under  Admiral  Boscawen  and  an  army  under  .Amliersl  re. 
duceil  the  fortress.     Wc    e  took  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  expedition.  —  Ed. 

24 


370  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1759 

tal".*  v»'iy  ( It'ciily  ami  st'iisiMy,  and  make  a  lU'ccnt  apjH 
ance  in  lilue,  fac-ed  wilh  sratlel,  tli<iu<,'li  llu'  privuU's  havi'  nu 
unifortu  nt  all. 

At  last  till!  fnity-thinl  set  sail,  tlic  raimnti  <it'  iht-  fort 
aalutiiij;  tlit'iu.  ami  tlu'  suldicrs  cju'ciiiiji  lustily,  (>vfiji»y«'d  to 
escaiH'  frf>tii  llu'ir  loiij^  iiiiiirisdtiniciit.  A  j^ale  sixm  licjfan; 
the  transports  liccanie  st'paialt'd ;  Knox's  vi-sstd  f^lirlliMt'il 
herself  for  u  time  in  l'assaniui|Uoddy  liay ;  tlii-n  i>assi'd  the 
(Jrand  Menan,  and  steered  southward  and  easlwanl  aloiijr 
the  eoast  of  Nova  Scotia.  A  calm  f(dlo\ved  ti.e  i:,nW.;  and 
thev  moved  so  slowly  that  Knox  be<fuiled  the  time  hy  tish- 
in<^  over  the  stern,  and  cauj^ht  a  halibut  so  larj^e  that  he  was 
forced  to  call  for  help  to  pull  it  in.  Then  they  steered 
nortl'.eastward,  now  lust  in  fogs,  and  now  tossed  mercilessly 
on  th(»se  boisterous  waves;  till,  on  the  twenty-fointh  of 
May,  they  saw  a  rocky  and  surf-lashed  shore,  with  a  forest  of 
masts  rising  to  all  ajipearance  out  of  it.  It  was  the  British 
fleet  in  the  land-locked  harbo   of  Louisbourg. 

On  the  left,  as  they  sailed  through  the  narrow  passage,  lay 
the  town,  scarred  with  shot  and  shell,  the  red  cross  float -ng 
over  its  battered  ramparts ;  and  around  in  a  wide  semicircle 
rose  the  bristling  backs  of  rugged  hills,  set  thick  with  dismal 
evergreens.  They  passed  the  great  ships  of  the  fleet,  and 
anchored  among  the  other  transports  towards  the  head  of 
the  harbor.  It  was  not  yet  free  from  ice ;  and  the  floating 
masses  lay  so  thick  in  some  parts  that  the  reckless  sailors, 
returning  from  leave  on  shore,  jumped  from  one  to  another 
to  regain  their  ships.  There  was  a  review  of  troops,  and 
Knox  went  to  see  it ;  but  it  ^as  over  before  he  reached  the 
place,  where  he  was  presently  told  of  a  characteristic  reply 
just  made  by  Wolfe  to  some  othcers  who  ha<^  apologized  for 
not  having  taught  their  men  the  new  exercise.    "  Poh,  poh ! 


,759J  The  Ativeiit  of  Wolfe  37' 

—  new  t'xorcise  —  lu'w  litldU'siiik.  If  tlii'V  an-  niluTwi.so 
well  ilKscipliiK'ii,  ami  will  light,  that 's  all  I  hhall  require 
of  llu'Hi. " 

Knux  does  not  record  his  impressions  of  his  new  coni- 
niander,  which  ninst  have  hccn  di.sapiK.inting.  He  called 
him  afterwards  a  Uritish  Achilles;  1ml  in  person  at  least 
Wolfe  hore  no  likeness  to  the  son  of  I'eleus.  for  never  was 
the  soul  of  a  hero  cased  in  a  frame  so  incongruous.  His 
face,  when  seen  in  profile,  was  singidar  as  that  of  the  (Jreat 
Ci»ude.  The  forehead  and  chin  receded;  the  nose,  slightly 
ujitunied,  formed  with  the  other  features  the  point  of  a»'  ob- 
tuse triangle ;  the  mouth  was  l»y  no  means  shaped  to  exjwss 
resolution ;  and  nothing  but  the  clear,  bright,  and  piercing 
eye  besp<»ke  the  spirit  within.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  black 
three-cornered  hat ;  his  red  hair  was  tied  in  a  (pieue  behind  ; 
his  narrow  shoulders,  slender  body,  and  long,  thin  limbs 
were  cased  in  a  scarlet  frock,  with  broad  cuffs  and  ample 
skirts  that  reached  the  knee;  wiiile  on  his  left  arm  he 
wore  n  band  of  crape  in  mourning  for  his  father,  of  whose 
death  he  had  heard  a  few  days  before. 

James  Wolfe  was  in  his  thirty-third  year.  His  father 
was  an  officer  of  distinctitm,  Major-fJeneral  PMward  Wolfe, 
and  he  himself,  a  delicate  and  sensitive  child,  but  an  impetu- 
ous and  somewhat  headstrong  youth,  had  served  the  king 
since  the  age  of  fifteen.  From  childhood  he  had  dreamed 
of  the  army  and  the  wars.  At  sixteen  he  was  in  Flanders, 
adjutant  of  his  regiment,  discharging  the  duties  of  the  jK)St, 
in  a  way  that  gained  him  early  promotion  and,  along  with 
a  painstaking  assiduity,  showing  a  precocious  faculty  for 
commanding  men.  He  passed  with  credit  througli  several 
campaigns,  took  part  in  the  victory  of  Dettingen,  and  then 
went  to  Scotland  to  fight  at  Culloden.    Next  we  find  him  at 


1/         iJUillia; 


372  The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent  [1759 

Stiiliiifj,  IVrlli.  aiitl  ( Jla.H^'nw,  always  ardent  anl  always  dili- 
iH'ul,  •■iiiistatil  in  inilituiy  duty,  and  jjivinjj  '.lis  sjmre  hours 
to  niallu'inalirs  and  Latin,  lie  prcsfntly  fell  in  lovo;  and 
bfinj;  disi|ii»<)int«.'d,  pliinj^ed  into  a  variety  »>f  dissipaliims, 
contrary  to  liis  usual  hatiits,  which  were  far  abo  0  the 
standard  of  thiit  iirotlijrjUe  time. 

At  twi'iily-tliree  he  was  a  lieutenant-colonel,  cotnniandinjj 
his   regiment    in   the   then   dirty   and   harharoiis   town    of 

Inverness,  amid  a  disaffected 
and  turb\dent  jxipulation  whom 
it  was  his  duty  to  keep  in 
order:  a  ditlic\dt  task,  which 
he  accompli.shed  so  well  as  to 
gain  the  s|K'cial  commendation 
of  the  kin*,',  and  even  the 
good-will  of  the  Higluanders 
tliemsclves.  He  was  five  years 
among  these  northern  hilLs, 
battling  with  ill-health,  and 
restless  under  the  intellectual 
barrenness  of  his  surroundinss. 
Tie  felt  his  position  to  be  in 
no  way  salutary,  and  wrote 
to  his  mother:  "The  fear  of 
becoming  a  mere  rufliun  and  of  imbibing  the  tyrannical 
principles  of  an  absolute  couimander,  or  giving  way  insensi- 
bly to  the  temptations  of  power  till  I  Itecame  proud,  insolent, 
and  intolerable,  —  these  considerations  will  make  me  wish 
to  leave  the  regiment  before  next  winter;  that  by  freiiuent- 
ing  men  altove  myself  I  may  know  my  true  condition,  and 
by  di.scoursing  witli  the  other  sex  may  learn  some  civility 
and  mildness  of  carriage."     He  got   leave  of  absence,  and 


Mdjur-Geni.riil  Jiimis  ll'alfc 


>759l 


The  Advent  of  Wolfe 


373 


.Hjtent  six  months  in  Paris,  where  he  was  presented  at  Court 
and  saw  much  uf  the  hest  society.  Tliis  did  not  prevent 
him  from  workinjj  hard  to  perfect  him>clf  in  French,  as 
well  as  in  horsemanshi|>,  fencinj^,  dancing,  and  t»ther  accom- 
plishments, and  from  earnestly  seeking  an  oji|Mirtunity  t<» 
study  the  various  armies  of  Kurope.  In  this  he  was  thwarted 
hy  the  stuiiiility  and  prejudice  of  the  command(*r-in-chief ; 
and  1)0  made  what  amends  he  could  hy  extensive  reading 
in  all  that  hore  on  military  matters. 

His  martial  instincts  were  halancuul  by  strong  domestic 
inclinations.  He  was  a  mo.st  dutiful  sim,  and  wrtjte  con- 
tinually to  hoth  his  parent.s.  His  nature  was  a  compound  of 
temlerness  and  fire,  which  la.st  sometimes  showed  itself  in 
sharp  and  unpleasant  flashes.  His  excitable  temper  was 
capable  almost  of  fierceness,  and  he  could  now  and  then  be 
needlessly  stern ;  but  towards  his  father,  mother,  and  friends 
he  was  a  model  of  steady  afl'ection.  He  made  friends 
readily,  and  kept  them,  and  was  usually  a  jileasant  comjianion, 
though  subject  to  sallies  of  imperious  irritability  which 
occasionally  broke  through  his  strong  sense  of  good  breeding. 
For  this  his  susceptible  constitution  was  largely  answerable, 
for  he  was  a  living  barometer,  and  his  spirits  rose  and  fell 
with  every  change  of  weather.  In  spite  of  his  impatient 
outbursts,  the  officers  whom  he  had  commanded  remained  at- 
tached to  him  for  life;  and,  in  spite  of  his  rigorous  discipline, 
he  was  beloved  by  his  soldiers,  to  whose  comfort  he  was 
always  attentive.  Frankness,  directness,  essential  good  feel- 
ing, and  a  high  integrity  atoned  for  all  his  faults. 

In  his  own  view,  as  expressed  to  his  mother,  he  was  a 
jiei-son  of  very  moderate  abilities,  aided  by  more  than  usual 
diligence  ;  but  this  modest  Judgment  of  himself  bv  no  means 
deprived  him  of  self-confidence,  nor,  in  time  of  need,  of  self- 


374  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1759 

assertion.  He  delighted  in  every  kind  of  haniihood ;  and, 
in  his  contempt  for  en'cniinaey,  once  said  to  his  mother: 
•'  l>etter  be  a  savage  of  some  use  than  a  gentle,  amorous 
puppy,  obnoxious  to  all  the  world."  He  was  fur  from 
despising  fame  ;  but  the  controlling  jirinciples  of  his  life 
were  duty  to  his  country  and  his  profe.^si(m,  loyalty  to  the 
kin",  and  tidelitv  to  his  own  ideal  of  the  perfect  s<ddier. 
To  the  i)arcnt  who  was  the  conlidant  of  his  most  intimate 
thou'dits  he  said  :  "  All  that  1  wish  hn-  mvself  is  that  1 
may  at  all  times  be  ready  and  firm  to  meet  that  fate  we 
caimot  shun,  and  to  die  gracefully  and  ])roperly  when  the 
hour  comes."  Never  was  wish  more  signally  fulfilled.  Agaiii 
he  tells  her:  "My  utmost  desire  and  ambition  is  to  look 
steadily  upon  danger;"  and  his  desire  was  a(!Comjilished. 
His  intrepidity  was  com])lete.  No  form  of  death  had  ])ower 
to  daunt  him.  Once  and  again,  when  bound  on  some  deadly 
enterprise  of  war,  he  cahnly  ctnuits  the  chances  whether  or 
not  he  can  compel  his  feeble  body  to  bear  him  on  till  the 
work  is  done.  A  frame  so  delicately  strung  could  not  have 
been  insensible  to  danger ;  but  forgetfulness  of  self,  and  the 
absorption  of  every  faculty  in  the  object  before  him,  shut 
out  the  sense  of  fear.  He  seems  always  to  have  been  at  his 
best  in  the  thick  of  battle;  most  complete  in  his  mastery 
over  liimself  and  over  others. 

But  it  is  in  ♦he  intimacies  of  domestic  life  that  one  sees 
him  most  closely,  and  especially  in  his  letters  to  his  mother, 
from  whom  he  inherited  his  fraU  constitution,  without  tlie 
beauty  that  distinguished  her.  "  The  greatest  happiness 
that  I  wish  for  here  is  to  see  you  happy."  "If  you  stay 
much  at  home  I  will  come  and  shut  myself  up  with  you 
for  three  weeks  or  a  month,  and  play  at  piquet  from  morn- 
ing till  night ;  and  you  shall  laugh  at  my  short  red  hair  as 


«759l 


The  Advent  of  Wolfe 


375 


much  as  you  please."  The  j)hi}  inj?  at  pifjuet  was  a  sacri- 
tice  to  tiliul  aLtuchmeut ;  for  Ihe  niolher  loved  curds,  and  the 
son  did  not.  "  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  my  room  or  my 
bedclothes ;  too  much  care  ami  delicacy  at  this  time  would 
enervate  me  and  complete  the  destrudion  of  a  totteriuj^  con- 
stitution. Such  as  it  is,  it  must  serve  me  now,  and  I  '11 
make  the  best  of  it  while  it  holds."  At  tlie  begianin<»  of 
the  war  his  fallier  tried  to  dissuade  liim  from  ofl'ering  his 
services  on  board  the  fleet,  and  he  replies  in  a  letter  to 
Mrs.  Wolfe:  "  It  is  no  time  to  think  of  what  is  convenient 
or  agreeable;  that  service  is  certainly  the  best  in  which  we 
are  the  most  useful.  For  my  part,  I  am  determined  never 
to  give  myself  a  mtjment's  concern  about  the  nature  of  tlie 
duty  which  His  Majesty  is  pleased  to  order  us  upon.  It 
will  be  a  sufficient  comfort  to  you  two,  as  far  as  my  person 
is  concerned,  —  at  least  it  will  be  a  reasonable  consolation, 
—  to  reflect  that  the  Power  which  has  hitherto  preserved 
me  may,  if  it  be  his  pleasure,  continue  to  do  so;  if  not, 
that  it  is  but  a  few  days  or  a  few  years  more  or  less,  and 
that  those  who  perish  in  their  duty  and  in  the  service  of 
their  country  die  honorably."  Then  he  proceeds  to  give 
particular  directions  about  his  numerous  dogs,  for  the  wel- 
fare of  which  in  his  absence  he  provides  with  anxious 
solicitude,  e  ^lecially  for  "my  friend  Cesar,  who  has  great 
merit  and  much  good-humor." 

When  about  to  sail  on  the  expedition  against  Louisbourg. 
he  was  anxious  for  his  parents,  and  wrote  to  his  uncle,  Major 
Wolfe,  at  Dublin :  "  I  trust  you  will  give  the  best  advice  to 
my  mother,  and  such  assistance,  if  it  should  be  wanted, 
as  the  distance  between  you  will  permit.  I  mention  this 
because  the  General  seems  to  decline  apace,  and  narrowly 
escajjed  being  carried  off  in  the  spring.     She,  poor  woman,  is 


i\ 


ifl 


376 


The  Stru'jtile  for  a  Continent 


I  J7r9 


in  ii  l>ail  stale  of  licaltli.  ami  nccils  tlu'  care  of  .sonio  frii'iully 
haiul.  She  has  loiij;  and  iiaiiiful  tits  of  iUness,  whii-h  by 
succession  ami  inheritance  are  likel;  to  devolve  oi\  nie,  since 
I  feel  the  early  syMi]>tonis  of  ilieiii."  Of  his  friends  (luy 
Carleton,  afterwards  Lord  DorchcstiT,  and  ("leort,^!  War(h', 
the  eoinjianion  of  liis  boyhood,  he  also  asks  help  for  his 
mother  in  his  absence. 

His  part  in  the  takin<^  of  Louisbourjf  greatly  increased  his 
rejiutation.  After  his  return  lie  went  to  Hath  to  recruit  his 
health;  i.nd  it  seems  to  have  lieen  here  that  he  wooed  anil 
won  Miss  Katherinc  Lowther,  daughter  of  an  ex-(Jovernor 
of  r>arbadoes,  and  sister  t)f  the  future  Lord  Lonsdale.  A 
betrothal  took  ]place,  and  Wolfe  wore  her  portrait  till  the 
night  before  his  death.  It  was  a  little  before  this  engage- 
ment that  he  wrote  to  his  friend  Tiieutenant-CJolonel  IJickson  : 
"  I  have  this  day  signified  to  Mr.  I'ilt  that  lie  may  dispose 
of  my  slight  carcass  as  he  pleases,  and  that  I  am  ready  for 
any  undertaking  within  the  compass  of  my  skill  and  cunning. 
I  am  in  a  very  bad  condition  both  with  the  gravel  and  rheu- 
matism; but  I  had  much  rather  die  than  decline  any  kin<l 
of  service  that  ciffers.  If  I  followed  my  own  taste  it  would 
lead  me  into  Germany.  However,  it  is  not  our  ])art  to  choose, 
but  to  obey.  My  upiniun  is  that  I  shall  join  the  arm}  in 
America." 

ritt  chose  him  to  command  the  expedition  then  fitting 
out  against  Quebec;  made  him  a  major-general,  though,  to 
avoid  giving  ofl'ence  to  (dder  officers,  he  was  to  hold  that 
rank  in  America  alone;  and  permitted  him  to  choose  his 
own  staff.  Aiipointments  made  for  merit,  and  not  through 
routine  and  patronage,  shocked  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  to 
whom  a  man  like  Wolfe  was  a  hopeless  enigma;  and  he 
told  George  II.  that  I'itt's  new  general  was  mad.     "  Mad  is 


The  Advent  of  Wolfe 


377 


I7S9I 

lie?"  returnecl  the   old   king;  "then  1  hope  he  will   hite 

some  others  of  my  generals." 

At  the  end  of  January  the  fleet  was  almost  ready,  and 

AVulfe  wrote  to  his  uncle  Walter:  "I  am  to  act  a  greater 

l)art  in  this  business  than  1  wished.     The  backwardness  of 

some  of  the  older  otlicers  has  in  st)me  measure  forced  the 

<r(.vernment  to  come  down  so  h)W.     1  shall  do  my  best,  and 

leave  the  rest  to  fortune, 

as  perforce  we  must  when 

there  are  not  the  most 

(Mimmanding    abilities. 

AVe    exjiect    to    sail    in 

about   three   weeks.      A 

London    life    and    little 

exercise    disagrees    en- 
tirely with  me,"  but  the 

sea  still  more.    If  I  have 

health  and  constitution 
enough  for  ihe  c:  aign, 
T  shall  think  m^jelf  a 
lucky  man;  what  hai>- 
jiens  afterwards  is  of  no 
great  consecjuence."  He 
sent  to  his  mother  an  affectionate  letter  of  farewell,  went  to 
Spithead,  embarked  with  Admiral  Saunders  m  the  ship 
"  Neptune,"  and  set  sail  on  the  seventeenth  of  Febniary.  In 
a  few  hours  tlie  whole  squadron  was  at  sea,  the  transports,  the 
frigates,  and  the  great  line-of-ballle  ships,  with  their  ponder- 
ous armament  and  their  freight  of  rude  humanity  armed  and 
trained  for  destruction;  while  on  the  heaving  deck  of  the 
"  Neptune,"  wretched  with  sea-si(;kneps  and  racked  with  pain, 
stood  the  gallant  invalid  who  was  master  of  it  all. 


Duke  (if  yiiirtDtlle 


II 


>1 

m 
Ir 


I:  " 


I  '  I 


3/8  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

The  fleet  consisted  ol"  twenty-two  ships  of  the  line,  with 
frigates,  sloops-of-war,  and  a  great  number  of  transports. 
When  Admiral  Saunders  arrived  with  his  squadron  off 
Loui.slumrg,  he  found  the  entrance  blocked  by  ice,  and  was 
forced  to  seek  harborage  at  Halifax.  The  squadron  of  Ad- 
miral Holmes,  which  had  sailed  a  few  days  earlier,  proceeded 
to  New  York  to  take  on  board  troops  destined  for  the  expe- 
dition, while  the  squad- 
ron of  Admiral  Durell 
steered  for  the  St.  Law- 
rence to  intercept  the  ex- 
pected ships  from  France. 
In  May  the  whole  fleet, 
except  the  ten  ships  witli 
Durell,  was  united  in  the 
harbor  of  Louisbourg. 
Twelve  thousand  troops 
were  to  have  been  em- 
ployed for  the  expedition; 
but  several  regiments  ex- 
pected from  the  West 
Indies  were  for  some  rea- 
son countermanded.while 
tlie  accessions  from  New 
York  and  the  Nova  Scotia  garrisons  fell  far  short  of  the 
looked-for  numbers.  Three  weeks  before  leaving  Louisbourg, 
Wolfe  writes  to  his  uncle  Walter  that  he  has  an  army  of 
nine  thousand  men.  The  actual  number  seems  to  have  been 
somewhat  less.  "Ovl  troops  are  good,"  lie  informs  Pitt; 
"  and  if  valor  can  make  amends  for  the  want  of  numbers,  we 
shall  probably  succeed." 

Three  brigadiers,  all  in  the  early  prime  of  life,  held  com- 


Sir  Charles  iiauiulers 


J  7591 


The  Advent  of  Wolfe 


379 


inaiul  under  him :  Alouckti  a,  Townshend,  and  Murray.  They 
were  all  his  superiors  in  birth,  and  one  of  them,  Townshend, 
never  forgot  that  he  was  so.  "(Jeorge  Townshend,"  says 
"\Valp(de,  "has  thrust  liiinself  again  into  the  service;  and,  as 
far  as  wrongheadedness  will  go,  is  very  proper  for  a  hero." 
The  same  caustic  writer  says  further  that  he  was  of  "a  proud, 
sullen,  and  contemptuous  temper,"  and  that  he  "  saw  every- 
thing in  an  ill-natured  and  ridiculous  light."  Though  his 
perverse  and  envious  disposition  made  him  a  ditlicult  col- 
league, Townshend  had  both  talents  and  energy ;  as  also  had 
^lonckton,  the  same  oHicer  who  commanded  at  tlie  capture 
of  Beaus^jour  in  1755.  ^lurray,  too,  was  well  matched  to 
the  work  in  hand,  in  spite  of  some  lingering  remains  of 
youthful  rashness. 

On  the  sixth  of  June  tlie  last  ship  of  the  fleet  sailed  out 
of  Louisbourg  harbor,  the  troops  cheering  and  the  officers 
drinking  to  the  toast,  "  British  colors  on  every  French  fort, 
]ioi't,  and  garrison  in  America."  The  ships  that  had  gone 
before  lay  to  till  the  whole  fleet  was  reunited,  and  then  all 
steered  together  for  the  St.  Lawrence.  From  the  headland 
of  Cape  Egmont,  the  Micmac  hunter,  gazing  far  out  over  the 
.shimmering  sea,  saw  the  horizon  flecked  with  their  canvas 
wings,  as  they  bore  northward  on  their  errand  of  havoc. 


jSo  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 


PLAN   OF   INVASION' 


r.v  the  jilan  of  this  summer's  camiiaij^n,  (Jaiiada  was  to  he 
assaih'd  on  three  sides  at  om-e.  rpoii  tlie  west,  (ieiieral 
I'rideaux  was  to  atta(;k  Niagara;  iii)oii  the  south,  (Jeneral 
Amherst   was    to   advance    upon    Tieonderoga   and    ("rown 

Point;    while  upon  the  east, 
(Jeneral  Wolfe  was  to  ])t-siege 


C^uebec;  and  each  of  these 
armies,  having  awomjilished 
its  particular  object,  was  di- 
rected to  i)ush  forward,  if 
possilile,  until  all  three  had 
united  in  the  heart  of  Can- 
ada. In  pursuance  of  the 
plan,  f  Jeneral  Prideaux  moved 
vip  liake  ( )ntario  and  invested 
Niagara.  This  jKtst  was  one 
of  the  greatest  imi^rtance. 
Its  capture  would  cut  off  the 
French  from  the  whole  inte- 
rior country,  and  they  there- 
fore made  every  effort  to  raise  the  siege.  An  army  of  seven- 
teen hundred  French  and  Indians,  collected  at  the  distant 
garrisojis  of  Detroit,  Tresqu'  Isle,  Le  IVinif,  and  Venango, 
suddenly  appeared   before  Niagara.      Sir  William  Johnson 

The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vul.  I.,  C'b.  IV. 


air  Jeffrey  Amherst 


Plan  of  Invasion 


381 


1759] 

was  now  ill  eoiiiinand  of  the  Knglisli,  Prideaux  having  heon 
killed  by  the  bursting  of  a  cohorn.  Advancing  in  order  of 
battle,  he  met  the  French,  charged,  routed,  anil  pursued  them 
for  five  miles  through  the  woods.  This  success  was  soon  fol- 
lowed by  the  surrender  of  the  fort. 

la  the  mean  time.  Sir  Jeffrey  Andierst  had  crossed  Lake 
(Jcorge,  and  apiieared  before  Ticonderoga;  u\m\  which  the 
French  blew  uj>  their  works,  and  retired  down  Lake  Cham- 
j.lain  to  (.'rown  I't.int.  Ketreating  from  this  jiosition  also,  on 
the  approach  of  the  English  army,  they  collected  all  their 
forces,  amounting  to  little  more  than  three  thousand  men,  at 
Isle-aux-Noix,  where  they  intrenchetl  themselves,  and  ].re- 
pared  to  resist  the  farther  progress  of  the  invaders.  The 
lateness  of  the  season  prevented  Andiei-st  from  carrying  out 
the  plan  of  advancing  into  Canada,  and  compelled  him  to  go 
into  winter-riuarters  at  Crown  Point.  The  same  cause  had 
withheld  Prideaux's  army  from  descending  the  St.  Lawrence. 


382 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


l«759 


P 


WOLFK   AT   QUEBEC J 

In'  early  spriiiif  tlio  diic'fs  (»f  ('iinaiUi  iiii'l  at  ^Montreal  io 
.settle  a  jilaii  of  defence.  What  at  iir.st  they  must  dreaded 
was  an  advance  of  the  enemy  by  way  of  lake  Chaniplain. 
IJuuiianiaiiue,  with  three  battalions,  wa.s  ordered  to  take  jKJst 

at  Ticonderoga,  hold  it  if 
he  coulil,  or,  if  oveiborne 
by  numbers,  fall  back  to 
Isle-aux-Noix,  at  the  out- 
let of  the  lake.  La  Corne 
was  sent  with  a  strong 
detachment  to  intrench 
himself  at  the  head  of 
the  rapids  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence, and  oppose  any 
hostile  movement  from 
Lake  Ontario.  Every 
able-bodied  man  in  the 
colony,  and  every  boy  who 
could  fire  a  gun,  was  to  be 
called  to  the  field.  Yau- 
dreuil  sent  a  circular 
letter  to  the  militia  captains  of  all  the  parishes,  with  or- 
ders to  read  it  to  tlie  parishioners.  It  exhorted  thera  to 
defend  their  religion,  their  wives,  their  children,  and  their 
g(jods  from  the  fury  of  the  heretics ;  declared  that  he,  the 

»  Montoalin  aiul  W.^llc,  Vol.  II.,  Ch.  XXV. 


Marquis  de  Vaudreuil 


1759]  Wolfe  at  Quebec  3^3 

governor,  would  never  yield  up  Canada  on  any  terms  what- 
ever; and  ordered  them  to  ynii  the  army  at  once,  leaving 
none  behind  but  the  old,  the  sick,  the  women,  and  the  chil- 
dren. The  bishop  issued  a  pastoral  mandate :  "  On  every 
siile,  dearest  brethren,  the  enemy  is  making  immense  prepara- 
tions. His  forces,  at  least  six  times  more  numerous  than 
ours,  are  already  in  motion.  Never  was  Canada  in  a  state  sj 
critical  and  full  of  jxiril.  Never  were  we  so  destitute,  or 
threatened  with  an  attack  so  fierce,  so  general,  and  so  ob- 
stinate. Now,  in  truth,  we  may  say,  more  than  ever  before, 
that  our  only  resource  is  in  the  powerful  succor  of  our 
Lord.  Then,  dearest  brethren,  m..ke  every  effort  to  deserve 
it.  '  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God ;  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you.' "  And  he  reproves  their  sins,  ex- 
horts them  to  repentance,  and  ordains  processions,  masses, 
and  prayers. 

Vaudreuil  bustled  and  boasted.  In  May  he  wrote  to  the 
minister :  "  The  zeal  with  which  I  am  animated  for  the  ser- 
vice of  the  king  will  always  make  me  surmount  the  greatest 
obstacles.  I  am  taking  the  most  proper  measures  to  give 
the  enemy  a  good  reception  whenever  he  may  attack  us.  I 
keep  in  view  the  defence  of  Quebec.  1  have  given  orders  in 
the  parishes  below  to  muster  the  inhabitants  who  are  able  to 
bear  arms,  and  place  women,  children,  cattle,  and  even  hay 
and  grain,  in  places  of  safety.  Permit  me,  Monseigneur,  to 
beg  you  to  have  the  goodness  to  assiU'C  His  Majesty  that,  to 
whatever  hard  extremity  I  may  be  reduced,  my  zeal  will  be 
equally  ardent  and  indefatigable,  and  that  I  shall  do  the 
impossible  to  prevent  our  enemies  from  making  progress  in 
any  direction,  or,  at  least,  to  make  them  pay  extremely  dear 
for  it."  Then  he  writes  again  to  say  that  Amherst  with  a 
great  army  will,  as  he  learns,  attack  Ticonderoga ;  that  Brad- 


l!„-» 


384  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  1175* 

street,  with  six  thousand  men,  will  advance  to  Lake  Ontario; 
and  that  six  thousand  more  will  march  to  the  ( >hio.  "  AVliat- 
ever  progress  they  may  make,"  he  adds, "  I  am  resolved  to 
yield  them  nothing,  but  hold  my  ground  even  to  anniliila- 
tion."  He  promises  to  do  his  best  to  kec])  on  good  terms 
witli  Montcalm,  and  ends  with  a  warm  eulogy  of  lligot. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  all  tliesc  prejiaratioiis  that  Uongain- 
ville  arrived  from  France  with  news  that  a  great  fleet  was  on 
its  way  to  attack  Quebec.  The  town  was  tilled  with  con- 
sternation mixed  with  surprise,  for  the  Canadians  had 
believed  that  the  dangerous  navigation  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
would  deter  their  enemies  from  tlie  attempt.  "  K\cryln><ly," 
writes  one  of  them,  "was  stupcticd  at  an  enterprise  that 
.seemed  so  bold."  In  a  few  days  a  crowd  of  sails  was  seen 
ajjproaching.  They  were  not  enemies,  but  friends.  It  was 
the  lleet  of  the  contractor  Cadet,  commanded  by  an  oilicer 
named  Kanon,  and  loaded  with  sujiplies  for  the  colony. 
They  anchored  in  the  harbor,  eighteen  sail  in  all,  and  their 
arrival  spread  universal  joy.  Admiral  Durell  had  come  too 
late  to  intercept  them,  lutching  but  three  stragglers  that  had 
lagged  behind  the  rest.  Still  othei-s  succeeded  in  ehnliiig 
him,  and  before  the  first  of  June  live  more  ships  had  come 
safely  into  port. 

^\^len  the  news  brought  by  r>ougainville  reached  INIon- 
treal,  nearly  the  whole  force  of  the  colony,  except  the  detach- 
ments of  l)(nirlama(iue  and  I^  Corne,  was  ordered  to  Quebec. 
Montcalm  hastened  thither,  and  Vaudreuil  followed.  The 
governor-general  wrote  to  the  minister  in  his  usual  strain, 
as  if  all  the  hope  of  Canada  rested  in  hira.  Such,  he  says, 
was  his  activity,  that,  tliough  very  busy,  he  reached  Quebec 
only  a  day  and  a  half  after  Montcalm ;  and,  on  arriving, 
learned    from    his    scouts   that    English    ships-of-war    had 


'759] 


Wolf*?  at  Quebec 


3«^5 


already  aitpeanMl  at  Isle-aux-Coudres.  Those  were  the 
Sfjuadron  of  iJiirell.  "1  t'xjH'ct,"  Vaiitlrouil  goes  on,  "  to  be 
.sharply  attacked,  and  that  our  enemies  will  make  their  most 
jK)werful  efforts  to  coiniuer  this  colony  ;  but  there  is  uo  ruse, 
no  resource,  no  means  which  my  zeal  does  not  supjjest  to  lay 
snares  for  t'leni,  and  Hiially,  when  the  exijjency  demands  it, 
to  Hffht  them  witli  an  ardor,  and  even  a  fury,  which  exceeds 
the  range  of  their  ambitious  designs.  The  troops,  the  Cana- 
dians, and  the  Indians  are  not  ignorant  of  the  resolution  I 
have  taken,  and  from  which  I  shall  not  recoil  under  any 
circumstance  whatever.  The  burghers  of  this  city  have 
already  jnit  tlieir  goods  and  furniture  in  places  of  safety. 
Tlie  old  men,  women,  and  children  hold  themselves  ready  to 
leave  town.  !My  Hrmness  is  p<'nerally  applauded.  It  has 
penetrated  everv  heart ;  and  each  man  says  aloud :  '  Canada, 
our  native  land,  shall  bury  us  under  its  ruins  before  we  sur- 
render to  the  English  ! '  This  is  decidedly  my  own  determi- 
nation, and  I  shall  hold  to  it  inviolably."  He  launches  into 
high  praise  of  the  contractor  Cadet,  whose  zeal  for  the  ser- 
vice of  the  king  and  the  defence  of  the  colony  he  declares 
to  be  triumphant  over  every  difficulty.  It  is  necessars',  he 
adds,  that  ample  supplies  of  all  kinds  should  be  sent  out  in 
the  autumn,  with  the  distribution  of  which  Cadet  offers  to 
charge  himself,  and  to  account  for  them  at  their  first  cost ; 
but  he  does  not  say  what  prices  his  disinterested  friend  will 
compel  the  destitute  Canadians  to  pay  for  them. 

Five  battalions  from  France,  nearly  all  the  colony  troops, 
and  the  militia  from  every  part  of  Canada  poured  into 
Quebec,  along  with  a  thousand  or  more  Indians,  who,  at  the 
call  of  Vaudreuil,  came  to  lend  their  scalping-knives  to  the 
defence.  Such  was  the  ardor  of  the  people  that  boys  of 
fifteen  and  men  of  eighty  were  to  be  seen  in  the  camp. 

25 


I 


II 


386  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1759 

Isle-aux  Coudres  and  Isle  d'Orlt'ans  were  itnhued  to  bo 
evucualed,  and  au  excited  crowd  on  the  ruck  of  Queln'o 
watched  hourly  for  the  aiijiroachiii;;  licet.  Days  jiassod  ami 
weeks  passed,  yet  it  diil  not  appear.  Meanwhile  Vaudreiiil 
held  council  after  council  to  settle  a  plan  of  defeiKc. 
They  were  slranjje  scenes:  a  crowd  of  otlicers  of  every  rank, 
mixeil  p(,'ll-nieli  in  a  sniall  room,  pushing,  shouting,  elbow- 
inj;  each  other,  interrupting  each  other;  till  Montcalm,  in 
despair,  took  each  aside  after  the  meeting  was  over,  and 
made  him  give  his  opinion  in  writing. 

He  himself  had  at  first  proposed  to  encamp  the  army  on 
the  plains  of  Abraham  and  the  meadows  of  the  St.  Charle« 
making  that  river  his  line  of  defence ;  but  he  changed  his 
plan,  and,  with  the  concurrence  of  Vaudreuil,  resolved  to 
post  his  whole  forco  on  the  St.  Lawrence  below  the  city, 
with  his  right  resting  on  the  St.  Charles,  and  his  left  on  the 
Montraorenci.  Here,  accordingly,  the  troops  and  militia 
were  stationed  as  they  arrived.  Early  in  June,  standing  at 
the  northeastern  brink  of  the  rock  of  Quebec,  one  could  have 
seen  the  whole  position  at  a  glance.  On  the  curving  shore 
from  the  St.  Charles  to  the  rocky  gorge  of  the  Montraorenci, 
a  distance  of  seven  or  eight  miles,  the  whitewashed  dwell- 
ings of  the  parish  of  Beauport  stretched  down  the  road  in  a 
double  chain,  and  the  fields  on  both  sides  were  studded  with 
tents,  huts,  and  Indian  wigwams.  Along  the  borders  of  the 
St.  Lawrence,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  distinguish  them,  gangs 
of  men  were  throwing  up  redoubts,  batteries,  and  lines  of 
intrenchment.  About  midway  between  the  two  extremities 
of  the  encampment  ran  the  little  river  of  Beauport;  and  on 
the  rising  ground  just  beyond  it  stood  a  large  stone  house, 
round  which  the  tents  were  thickly  clustered ;  for  here 
Montcalm  had  made  his  headquarters. 


«759] 


Wolfe  at  Quebec 


387 


A  Ikmhu  iif  Inrrs  chained  loj^i'tlRT  wn-'  dinwii  a<Tns.s  lliu 
mouth  of  the  St.  Churk'.s,  whirli  was  fiiithiT  j^uanlt'tl  by  two 
hulks  mounted  with  eannou.  The  brid^'e  of  boats  that 
crossed  the  stream  nearly  a  mile  aliove,  foiined  the  chief 
comnuinieation  between  the  city  and  the  cami).  Its  head 
towarils  l'ieaui)ort  was  ]>rotectcd  by  a  strong  and  extensive 
earthwork ;  and  the  banks  of  the  btrcam  on  the  Quebec  side 


were  also  intrenched,  to  form  a  second  line  of  defence  in 
case  the  position  at  Beauport  should  be  forcetl. 

In  the  city  itself  every  gate,  except  the  Palace  (late,  which 
gave  access  to  the  bridge,  was  closed  and  barricaded.  A 
hundred  and  six  cannon  were  mounted  on  the  walls.  A 
floating  battery  of  twelve  heavy  piece?,  a  numl>er  of  gun- 
boats, eight  fireships,  and  several  firerafts  formed  the  river 
defences.  The  largest  merchantmen  (  Kanon's  fleet  were 
sacrificed  to  make  the  fireships ;  and  the  rest,  along  with 
the  frigates  that  came  with  them,  were  sent  for  safety  up 
the  St.  Lawrence  beyond  the  River  Kichelieu,  whence  about 


i 


K>.-^«IBSr«l'--.'iit^ 


388  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [«759 

a  thousand  of  their  sailors  returned  to  man  the  batteries  and 
gunboats. 

In  the  camps  along  the  Beauport  shore  were  about  four- 
teen thousand  men,  besides  Indians.  The  regulars  held  the 
centre;  the  militia  of  Quebec  and  Three  Rivers  were  on 
the  right,  and  those  of  Montreal  on  the  left.  In  Quebec 
itself  there  was  a  garrison  of  between  one  and  two  thousand 
men  under  the  Chevalier  de  Ramesay.  Thus  the  whole 
number,  including  Indians,  amounted  to  more  than  sixteen 
thousand ;  and  though  the  Canadians  who  formed  the  greater 
part  of  it  were  of  little  use  in  the  open  held,  they  could  be 
trusted  to  fight  well  oehind  intreuchments.  Against  this 
force,  posted  behind  defensive  works,  on  positions  almost 
impregnable  by  nature,  Wolfe  brouglit  less  than  nine  thousand 
men  available  for  operations  on  land.  The  steep  and  lofty 
heights  that  lined  the  river  made  the  cannon  of  the  ships  for 
the  most  part  useless,  while  the  exigencies  of  the  naval 
service  forbade  employing  the  sailors  on  shore.  In  two  or 
three  instances  only,  throughout  the  siege,  small  squads  of 
them  landed  to  aid  in  moving  and  working  cannon;  and 
the  actual  fighting  fell  to  the  troops  alone. 

Vaudreuil  and  Bigot  took  up  their  quarters  with  the  army. 
Tiie  governor-general  had  delegated  the  command  of  the 
land-forces  to  Montcalm,  whom,  in  his  own  words,  he 
authorized  "  to  give  orders  everywhere,  provisionally."  His 
relations  with  him  were  more  than  ever  anomalous  and  criti- 
cal ;  for  while  Vaudreuil,  in  virtue  of  his  office,  had  a  right 
to  supreme  command,  Montcalm,  now  a  lieutenant-general, 
held  a  military  grade  far  above  him;  and  the  governor, 
while  always  writing  himself  down  in  his  despatches  as  the 
head  and  front  of  every  movement,  had  too  little  self-confi- 
dence not  to  leave  the  actual  command  in  the  hands  of  his 
rival. 


17591  Wolfe  at  Quebec  3^9 

Days  and  weeks  wore  on,  and  the  first  excitement  gave 
way  to  restless  impatience.  Why  did  not  the  Enj,'lish  come  ? 
Many  of  the  Canadians  thought  that  Heaven  would  inter- 
pose and  wreck  the  English  fleet,  as  it  had  wTCcked  that  of 
Admiral  Walker  half  a  century  before.  There  were  proces- 
sions, prayers,  and  vows  towards  this  happy  consummation. 
Food  was  scarce.  Bigot  and  Cadet  lived  in  luxury ;  fowls  by 
thousands  were  fattened  with  wheat  for  their  tables,  while 
the  people  were  put  on  rations  of  two  ounces  of  bread  a  day. 
Durell  and  his  ships  were  reported  to  be  still  at  Isle-aux- 
Coudres.  Vaudreuil  sent  thither  a  party  of  Canadians,  and 
they  captured  three  midshipmen,  who,  says  Montcalm,  had 
gone  ashore  pour  polissonncr,  that  is,  on  a  lark.  These 
youths  were  brought  to  Quebec,  where  they  increased  the 
general  anxiety  by  grossly  exaggerating  the  English  force. 

At  length  it  became  known  that  eight  English  vessels 
were  anchored  in  the  north  channel  of  Orleans,  and  on  the 
twenty-tirst  of  June  the  masts  of  three  of  them  could  plainly 
be  seen.  One  of  the  fireships  was  consumed  in  a  vain  at- 
tempt to  burn  them,  and  several  firerafts  and  a  sort  of  infernal 
machine  were  tried  with  no  better  success ;  the  unwelcome 
visitors  still  held  their  posts. 

Meanwhile  the  whole  English  fleet  had  slowly  advanced, 
piloted  by  Denis  de  Vitr^,  a  Canadian  of  good  birth,  cap- 
tured at  sea  some  time  before,  and  now  compelled  to  serve, 
under  a  threat  of  being  hanged  if  he  refused.  Nor  was  he 
alone ;  for  when  Durell  reached  the  place  where  the  river 
pilots  were  usually  taken  on  board,  he  raised  a  French  flag 
to  his  mast-head,  causing  great  rejoicings  among  the  Cana- 
dians on  shore,  who  thought  that  a  fleet  was  come  to  their 
rescue,  and  that  their  country  was  saved.  The  pilots 
launched  their    Jioes  and  came  out  to  the  ships,  where  they 


39°  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

were  all  made  prisoners  ;  then  the  French  tlag  was  lowered, 
and  the  red  cross  displayed  in  its  stead.  The  spectators  on 
shore  turned  from  joy  to  despair ;  and  a  priest  who  stood 
watching  the  squadron  with  a  telescope  is  said  to  have 
dropped  dead  with  the  revulsion  of  feeluig. 

Towards  the  end  of  June  the  main  fleet  was  near  the 
mountain  of  Cape  Tourraente.  The  passage  called  the  Trav- 
erse, hetween  the  Cape  and  the  lower  end  of  the  Island  of 
Orleans,  was  reputed  one  of  the  most  dangerous  parts  of  the 
St.  Lawrence;  and  as  the  ships  successively  came  up,  the 
captive  pilots  were  put  on  board  to  carry  them  safely  through, 
on  pain  of  death.  One  of  these  men  was  assigned  to  the 
transport "  Goodwill,"  in  which  was  Captain  Knox,  who  spoke 
French,  and  who  reports  thus  in  his  Diary :  "  He  gasconaded 
at  a  most  extravagant  rate,  and  gave  us  to  understand  that 
it  was  much  against  his  will  that  he  was  become  an  English 
pilot.  The  poor  fellow  assumed  great  latitude  in  his  conver- 
sation, and  said  '  he  made  no  doubt  that  some  of  the  fleet 
would  return  to  England,  but  they  should  have  a  dismal 
tale  to  carry  with  them ;  for  Canada  should  be  the  grave  of 
the  whole  army,  and  he  expected  in  a  short  time  to  see  the 
walls  of  Quebec  ornamentpd  with  English  scalps.'  Had  it 
not  been  in  obedience  to  the  admiral,  who  r  ve  orders  that 
he  shoidd  not  be  ill-used,  he  would  y  have  been 

thrown  overboard."     The  master  of  the  lort  was  an  old 

sailor  named  Killick,  who  despised  the  \ .  le  Gallic  race, 
and  had  no  mind  to  see  his  ship  in  charge  of  a  Frenchman. 
"  He  would  not  let  the  pilot  speak,"  continues  Knox,  "  but 
fixed  his  mate  at  the  helm,  charged  him  not  to  take  orders 
from  any  pe'son  but  himself,  and  going  forward  with  his 
trumpet  to  the  forecastle,  gave  the  necessary  instructions. 
All  that  could  be  said  by  the  commanding  officer  and  the 


I 


1759]  Wolfe  at  Quebec  39 » 

other  gentlemen  on  board  was  to  no  i>urpose ;  the  pilot  de- 
clared we  should  be  lost,  for  that  no  Fren.-h  ship  ever  pre- 
sumed to  pass  there  without  a  pilot.     '  Ay,  ay,  my  dear,' 
replied  our  son  of  Neptune,  *  but,  damn  me,  1 11  convince 
you  that  an  luiglishman  shall  go  where  a  Frenchman  dare 
not  show  his  nose.'     Tlie  '  llichmond  '  frigate  being  ch)se 
astern  of  us,  the  commanding  otlicer  called  out  to  the  captain 
and  told  him  our  case ;  he  inciuired  who  the  master  was,  and 
was  answered  from  the  forecastle  by  the  man  himself,  who 
told  him  '  he  was  old  Killick,  and  that  was  enough.'     I  went 
forward  with  this  experienced  mariner,  who  pointed  out  the 
channel  to  me  as  we  i)assed ;  showing  me  by  the  ripple  and 
color  f^f  the  water  where  there  was  any  danger,  and  distin- 
guishing the  places  where  there  were  ledges  of  rocks  (to  me 
invisible)  from  banks  of  sand,  mud,  or  gravel.     He  gave  his 
orders  with  great  imconcern,  joked  wlwh  the  sounding-boats 
which  lay  oil"  on  each  side  with  different  colored  flags  for 
our  guidance;  and  when  any  of  them  called  to  him  and 
pointed  to  the  deepest  water,  he  answered :  '  Ay,  ay,  my  dear, 
chalk  it  down,  a  damned  dangerous  navigation,  eh !     If  you 
don't  make  a  sputter  about  it  you  '11  get  no  credit  in  Eng- 
land.'   After  we  had  cleared  this  remarkable  place,  where 
the  channel  forms  a  complete  zig-zag,  the  master  called  to  his 
mate  to  give  the  helm  to  somebody  else,  sayi'^'r, '  Damn  me 
if  there  are  not  a  thousand  places  in  the  Thames  fifty  times 
more  hazardous  than  this ;  I  am  ashamed  that  Englishmen 
should  make  such  a  rout  about  it.'     The  Frenchman  asked 
me  if  the  captain  had  not  been  there  before.     I  assured  him 
in  the  negative ;  upon  wliich  he  viewed  him  with  great  atten- 
tion, lifting  at  the  same  time  his  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven 
with  astonishment  and  fervency." 

Yaudreuil  was  blamed  for  viot  planting  cannon  at  a  cer- 


Ri  ' 


392  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

tain  plateau  on  the  side  of  the  mountain  of  Cape  Tourmente, 
where  the  gunners  would  have  been  inaccessible,  and  whence 
they  could  have  l>attered  eveiy  passing  ship  with  a  plunging 
fire.     As  it  was,  tlie  whole  fleet  sailed  safely  through.     On 
the  twenty-sixlli  they  were  all  anchored  otf  the  south  shore 
of  the  Island  of   Orleans,  a  few  miles  from  Quebec ;  and, 
wr:-.(  s  Knox,  "  here  we  are  entertained  with  a  most  agiee- 
able  prospect  of  a  delightful  country  on  every  side ;  wind- 
mills, watermills,  churdies,  chapels,  and  compact  farmhouses, 
all  built  with  stone,  and  covered,  some  with  wood,  and  others 
with  straw.     The  lands  apjjcar  to  be  everywhere  well  culti- 
vated; and  with  the  help  of  my  glass  I  can  discern  that 
they  are  sowed  with  flax,  wheat,  barley,  peas,  etc.,  and  the 
grounds   are    enclosed    with   wooden    jiales.     The   weather 
to-day  is  agreeably  warm.     A  light  fog  sometimes  hangs 
over  the   highlands,  but  in  the  river  we  have  a  tine  clear 
air.     In  the  curve  of  the  river,  while  we  were  mider  sail, 
we  had  a  transient  view  of  a  stupendous  natural  curiosity 
called  the  waterfall  of  Montmorenci." 

That  night  Lieutenant  Aleecli,  with  forty  Xew  England 
rangers,  landed  on  the  Island  of  Orleans,  and  found  a^body 
of  armed  inhabitants,  who  tried  to  surround  him.  He  beat 
them  off,  and  took  possession  of  a  neighlxning  farmhouse, 
where  he  remained  till  daylight ;  then  pui-sued  the  enemy! 
and  found  that  they  had  crossed  to  the  north  shore.  Tlie 
whole  army  now  landed,  and  were  drawn  up  on  the  beach. 
As  they  were  kept  there  for  some  time.  Knox  and  several 
brother  officers  went  to  visit  the  neighboring  church  of  St. 
Laurent,  where  they  found  a  letter  from  the  parisli  jiriest, 
directed  to  "  The  Worthy  Otficors  of  the  I'.ritish  Army," 
praying  that  they  would  protect  the  sacred  edifice,  and  also 
his  own  adjoining  house,  and  adding,  with  somewhat  needless 


1759]  Wolfe  at  Quebec  393 

civility,  that  he  wished  they  had  come  sooner,  that  they 
might  have  enjoyed  the  asparagus  and  radishes  of  his  garden, 
now  unhappily  going  t(;  seed.  The  letter  concluded  with 
many  compliments  and  good  wishes,  in  which  the  liritons  to 
whom  they  were  addressed  saw  only  "  the  frothy  politeness  so 
pc.uJiar  to  the  French."  The  army  marched  westward  and 
encami»ed.     W<.lfe,  with  liis  chief  engineer,  INIajor  Mackel- 


Ursii/inc  Convent,  Qiiihic 

lar,  and  an  escort  of  light  infantry,  advanced  to  the  extreme 
point  of  the  island. 

Here  he  could  see,  in  part,  the  desperate  nature  of  the 
task  he  had  undertaken,  liefore  him,  three  or  four  miles 
away,  Quebec  sat  perched  upon  her  rock,  a  congregation  of 
stone  houses,  churches,  palaces,  convents,  and  hospitals; 
the  green  trees  of  the  Seminary  garden  and  the  spires  of 
the  Cathedral  the  T^rstdines,  the  Et^coUets,  and  the  Jesuits. 
I$eyond   rose   the   loftier  height   of  Cape   Diamond,  edged 


n 


394  Tht  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

with  palisades  and  cupped  with  redoubt  and  parapet.  Bat- 
teries frowued  ever)  where  ;  the  Chateau  battery,  the  Clergy 
battery,  the  Hospital  battery,  on  the  rock  above,  and  the 
Koyal,  Dauphin's,  and  Queen's  batteries  on  the  strand,  where 
the  dwellings  and  warehouses  of  the  lower  town  clustered 
beneath  the  cliff. 

Full   in   sight  lay  the  far-extended   camp  of  Montcalm, 
stretching  from  the   St.  Charles,  beneath  the  city  walls,  to 
the  chasm   and  cataract  of   the  Montmorenci.     From  the 
cataract  to  the  river  of  Beauport,  its  front  was  covered  by 
earthworks  along   the   brink   of   abrupt  and  h)fty  heights; 
and  from  the  river  of  Beauport  to  the  St.  Charles,  by  broad 
Hats  of  mud  swept  by  the  fire  of  redoubts,  intrenchments, 
a   floating  battery,   and   the   city  itself.     Above   the   city. 
Cape  Diamond  hid  the  view ;  but  could  Wolfe  have  looked 
beyond  it,  he  would  have  beheld  a  prospect  still  more  dis- 
heartening.    Here,  mile  after  mile,  the  St.  Lawrence  was 
walled  by  a  range  of  steeps,  often  inaccessible,  and  always 
so  difficult  that  a  few  men  at  the  top  could  hold  an  army  in 
check ;  while  at  Cap-Rouge,  about  eight  miles  distant,  the 
high  plateau  was  cleft  by  the  channel  of  a  stream  which 
formed  a  line  of  defence  as  strong  as  that  of  the  Montmo- 
renci    Quebec  was  a   natural   fortress.     Bougainville   had 
long  before  examined   the  position,  and  reported  that  "by 
the  help  of  intrenchments,  easily  and  quickly  made,  and  de- 
fended by  three  or  four   thousand   men,  I  think  the  city 
would  be  safe.     I  do  not  believe  that  the  English  will  make 
any  attempt  against  it ;  but  they  may  have  the  madness  to 
do  so,  and  it  is  well  to  be  prepared  against  surprise." 

Not  four  thousand  men,  but  four  times  four  thousand,  now 
stood  in  its  defence  ;  and  their  chiefs  wisely  resolved  not  to 
throw  away  the  advantages  of  their  position.     Nothing  more 


17591  Wolfe  at  Quebec  395 

was  heard  of  Vaudreuil's  bold  plan  of  attacking  the  invaders 
at  their  landing ;  and  Montcalm  had  declared  that  he  would 
play  the  part,  not  uf  Hannibal,  but  of  Fabius.  His  plan 
was  to  avoid  a  general  battle,  run  no  risks,  and  protract 
the  defence  till  the  resources  of  the  enemy  were  exhausted, 
«ir  till  approaching  winter  forced  them  to  withdraw.  Suc- 
cess was  almost  certain  but  for  one  contingency.  Amherst, 
with  a  force  larger  than  that  of  Wolfe,  was  moving  against 
Ticouderoga.  If  he  should  capture  it,  and  advance  into 
the  colony,  Montcalm  would  be  forced  to  weaken  his  army 
by  sending  strong  detachments  to  oppose  him.  Here  was 
Wolfe's  best  hope.  This  failing,  his  only  cliance  was  in 
audacity.  The  game  was  desperate  ;  but,  intrepid  gamester 
as  he  was  in  war,  he  was  a  man,  in  the  last  resort,  to  stake 
everything  on  the  cast  of  the  dice. 

The  elements  declared  for  France.  On  the  afternoon  of  the 
day  when  Wolfe's  army  landed,  a  violent  scjuall  swept  over 
the  St.  Lawrence,  dashed  the  ships  together,  drove  several 
ashore,  and  destroyed  many  of  the  flat-boats  from  which 
the  troops  had  just  disembarked,  "  I  never  saw  so  much 
distress  among  shipping  in  my  whole  life,"  writes  an  officer 
to  a  friend  in  Boston.  Fortunately  the  storm  subsided  as 
quickly  as  it  rose.  Vaudreuil  saw  that  the  hoped-for  deliv- 
erance had  failed ;  and  as  the  tempest  had  not  destroyed 
the  British  fleet,  he  resolved  to  try  the  virtue  of  his  fire- 
ships.  "  I  am  afraid,"  says  Montcalm,  "  that  they  have  cost 
us  a  million,  and  will  be  good  for  nothing  after  alL"  This 
remained  to  be  seen.  Vaudreuil  gave  the  chief  command 
of  them  to  a  naval  officer  named  Delouche ;  and  on  the 
evening  of  the  twenty-eighth,  after  long  consultation  and 
much  debate  among  tlieir  respective  captains,  they  set  sail 
together  at  ten  o'clock.     The  night  was  moonless  and  darL 


396  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

In  less  than  an  hour  they  were  al  tlie  entrance  of  the  north 
ehannel.     Delouche  hud    heen  all    entluisiasni ;    but   as  lie 
neared  tlie  dun^i-v  his  nerves  failed,  and  he  set  fire  to  his 
ship  half  an  hour  too  soon,  the  rest  foUowinj,'  his  exanijile. 
There  was  an   Knjrlish  outpost  at  the   Point  of  Orleans; 
and,  about  eleven  o"ch.rk,  tlie  sentries  cK-scried  tliroufrh  the 
Klooni  the  j,'lioslly  outlines  of  the  a].i.roa(hinj,'  ships.     As  they 
Kazed,  tliese  mysterious  slran^iMs  be^an  to  .lart   t-.n-ues  (^f 
tiame;  lire  ran  like  li^hlninK  »!•  their  masts  and  sails,  and 
then  they  bmst  out  like  v.dcanoes.     Filk-d  as  they  were  with 
pilch,  tar,  and  every  maimer  of   combustible,   mixed  willi 
fireworks,  bombs,  ;r,viia(U's,  and    oM    eainion,  swivels,  and 
muskets  loaded  to  the  tliroat,  the  ellect   was  terrific.     The 
trooi.s  at  tlie  Toint,  ania/ed  at  the  sudden  eruption,  the  din 
of  the  e.xj.losions,  and  the  showers  (.f  fr,apeshot  that  rattled 
aiiK.ncr   the    trees,  lost    their   wits    an.l    iK-d.     The    blazini( 
dragons  hissed  and    roared,  spouted  sheets  of  fire,  vomited 
smoke  in  black,  j.itchy  vdum      and  vast  illumined  clouds, 
and  shed  tlieir  infernal  j,dare  on  the  distant  city,  the  tents 
of   Montcalm,  and  the  lonjr   rc.l  lines  of  the   Uiiiish  army, 
drawn  up  in  array  of  batth-,  lest   the    French   slioul.l   cross 
from  their  encamiMiients  to  attack  tliem  in   the  confusion. 
Knox  calls  the  .lisplay  "tlie   {rrandest    fireworks  that    can 
possibly  be  conceived."     Vi-t  the  fireships  did  no  otiier  harm 
tiian  burniufr   alive  one   of  their  own  captains  and  six  or 
seven  of   his   saib.i-s  who  failed    to   escape  in  their  boats. 
Some   of  them   ran   ashore    before  reachin<r  the  fleet;  the 
othei-s   were   seized    by  Die    intrepid    Knjrlisli    s'liloi-s,  who, 
ajyproachinjr  i„  their  boats,  threw  Kiappling-irons  upon  them 
and  towed  them  towards  land,  till  they  swung  round  and 
stranded.     Here,  after  venting  their  fury   for  a  while,  they 
subsided  into  <iuiet  conflagra.ioi>,  whicli  lasted  till  mornin<^. 


,7591  Wolfe  at  Quebec  397 

Vauclreuil  watched  the  result  uf  his  experiment  from  the 
steeple  of  the  church  at  Beaupt)rt ;  then  returned,  dejected, 
to  Quebec. 

Wolfe  longed  to  fight  his  enemy ;  but  his  sagacious  enemy 
would  not  gratify  him.  From  the  heights  of  Beauport,  the 
rock  of  t^uebec,  or  the  summit  of  Cape  Diamond,  Montcalm 
could  look  down  on  the  river  and  its  shores  as  on  a  map, 
and  watch  each  movement  of  the  invaders.  He  was  hoj)eful, 
perhaps  confident ;  and  for  a  month  or  more  he  wrote  almost 
daily  to  Bourlamaque  at  Ticonderoga,  in  a  cheerful,  and  often 
a  jocose  vein,  mingling  orders  and  instructions  with  pleasan- 
tries and  bits  of  news.  Yet  his  vigilance  was  unceasing. 
"  We  pass  every  night  in  bivt)uac,  or  else  sleep  in  our  clothes. 
Perhaps  you  are  doing  as  much,  my  dear  Bourlamaque." 

Of  the  two  commanders,  Vaudreuil  was  the  more  sanguine, 
and  professed  full  faith  that  all  would  go  well.  He  too  cor- 
responded witii  Bourlamaque,  to  whom  he  gave  his  opinion, 
founded  on  the  reports  of  deserters,  that  Wolfe  had  no  chance 
of  success  unless  Amherst  should  come  to  his  aid.  This  he 
pronounced  impossible;  and  he  expressed  a  strong  desire 
that  the  English  would  attack  him,  "so  that  we  may  rid 
ourselves  of  them  at  once."  He  was  courageous,  except  in 
the  immediate  presence  of  danger,  and  failed  only  when  the 
crisis  came. 

Wolfe,  held  in  check  at  every  other  point,  had  one  move- 
ment in  his  power.  He  could  seize  the  heights  of  Point 
Levi,  opposite  the  city ;  and  this,  along  with  his  occupation 
of  the  Island  of  Orleans,  would  give  him  command  of  the 
Basin  of  Quebec.  Thence  also  he  could  fire  on  the  place 
across  the  St.  Lawrence,  whicli  is  here  less  than  a  mile  wide. 
The  movement  was  begun  on  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty- 
ninth,  when,  shivering  in  a  north  wind  and  a  sharp  frost,  a 


39'^  The  Struggle  tor  ;i  Continent  [1759 

part  of  Monckton's  In  atle  was  ferrit'd  over  t  IVjaumoiii,  on 
the  south  shore,  ami  the  rt'st  fulloweJ  m  the  ^rnin^^  I'he 
rangers  had  a  hrush  with  a  jKirly  of  <  "anad  ana,  whom  tiey 
dMve  off,  and  the  regular .  then  landed  unoji{M».sed.  M  lu'l- 
ton  ordered  a  i)rocla  laiion,  niijiied  uv  VVolff,  to  be  p  .-.it'd  ou 
the  door  of  the  pan.^h  hun  h.  It  'ailed  on  t!ie  Canadians, 
in  |>ereinptory  u-rius,  to  sta'  I  iifiural  n\  t!i»><o\\tfcst,  j.ro.iiiM.i 
them,  if  they  did  so,  full  [n  •  ion  in  jn^terly  !u!  rel  ii, 
and  thnatene('  lat,  if  they  {iresinued  to  n  if^i  ■  inv  a»  r-<, 
their  houses,  g  oils,  and  harvests  s'  luld  be  di^f  >yeil,  an^ 
their  churches  esjjoilt  \.  \s  soon  as  ihetri'pdv  -re  out  f 
si«,'lit  the  iuhabuaiUr  took  down  the  piai-ard  ain-  t.  eu  it  to 
S'audreuiL 

The  briijatlt'  taarched  along  the  river  'tad  i'l  it  Le^  1, 
drove  (iF  a  l)ody  of  French  and  Imlians  ed  iv  fhun  i, 
and  took  f)ossession  of  the  hnuses  ai!  1  the  j  muii  laj;  acij. 
In  the  niurning  lliey  \v  e  intr.  achii  themse  ve>,  wl  en  i) 
were  giieted  by  a  brisk  tire  from  the  'tge  <'f  ine  woods.  It 
came  from  a  party  of  I.nlians,  whoii!  tlio  igers  pre:  ly 
put  to  flight,  anil,  iniilating  llii  ir  own     'rm.. , ,  ti<  alp  e 

of  them.  Wolfe  came  o^-er  to  the  -aiiift  on  the  s  <ia}% 
went  with  an  escort  li>  the       ights  opposite  Que  am- 

ined  it  with  a  spy -gin  «,  iind  h< -^c  i  nosii  ,  from  w  neh  to 
boiiil)ard  it.  Cannon  ul  mort  ;s  ..re  bro  fit  ash  'e,  fa.'^- 
ciue.s  and  gabions  ni     e,  int  uu         thi      n  up,  and  bat- 

teries i)lanted.  Kn  cauie  ;  -roii  he  ii.aiii  camp,  and 
.savs  that  he  had      i   aio.st  a;.    ^  ,  w  ol     he  city  of 

(Quebec.  Ii  is  a  vei\  'air  object  for  tir  artill'^n'  art-'-Mlarly 
the  lower  t-wn."     \\n     vhy  did   \V  !fe  wi.sh  to  .ui-lit? 

Its  fortifirations  were  it  little  ■  xposed  to  his  lire,  and  to 
kn>ick  it.s  houses,  (•on\  uts,  ami  hurches  to  pieces  would 
bring  hin   no  nearer  tn  ins    iijen      His  guns  at  Foint  Levi 


I  i 


1759] 


Wolfe  at  Quebec 


399 


could  destroy  the  city,  but  could  not  capture  it ;  yet  doubt- 
less they  would  have  good  moral  effect,  discourage  the 
French,  and  cheer  his  own  soldiers  with  the  flattering  belief 
that  they  were  achieving  something. 

The  guns  of  Quebec  showered  balls  and  bombs  upon  his 
workmen ;  but  they  still  toiled  on,  and  the  French  saw  tlie 
fatal  batteries  fast  growing  to  completion.  The  citizens, 
alarmed  at  the  threatened  destruction,  begged  the  governor 
for  leave  to  cross  the  river  and  dislodge  their  assailants.  At 
length  he  consented.  A  party  of  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred 
was  made  up  of  armed  burghers,  Canadians  from  the  camp, 
a  few  Indians  some  pupils  of  the  Sennnary,  and  about  a 
hundred  volunteers  from  the  regulars.  Dumas,  an  experi- 
enced officer,  took  command  of  them;  and,  going  up  to 
Sillery,  they  crossed  the  river  on  the  night  of  the  twelfth 
of  July.  They  had  hardly  climbed  the  heights  of  the  south 
shore  when  they  grew  exceedingly  nervous,  though  the  enemy 
was  still  three  miles  off.  The  Seminary  scholars  fired  on 
some  of  their  own  party,  whom  they  mistook  for  English ; 
and  the  same  mishap  was  repeated  a  second  and  a  third  time. 
A  panic  seized  the  wh(jle  body,  and  Dumas  could  not  control 
them.  They  turned  and  made  for  their  canoes,  rolling  over 
each  other  as  they  rushed  down  the  lieights,  and  reappeared 
at  Quebec  at  six  hi  the  morning,  overwhelmed  with  despair 

and  shame. 

The  presentiment  of  the  unhappy  burghers  proved  too 
true.  The  English  batteries  fell  to  their  work,  and  the 
families  of  the  town  fled  to  the  country  for  safety.  In  a 
single  day  eighteen  houses  and  the  cathedral  were  burned 
by  exploding  shells ;  and  fiercer  and  fiercer  the  storm  of  fire 
and  iron  hailed  ujwn  Quebec. 

Wolfe  did  not  rest  content  with  di.'^tressing  his  enemy. 


f  = 


ii  i 


400  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

With  au  ardor  and  a  daring  that  no  dithculties  could  cool, 
lie  sought  moans  to  strike  an  eflective  Wow.  It  was  nothing 
to  lay  Quebec  iu  ruins  if  he  could  not  defeat  the  army  that 
protected  it.  To  land  from  boats  and  attack  Montcalm  in 
front,  through  the  mud  of  the  Beauport  flats  or  up  the  heights 
along  the  neighboring  shore,  was  an  enterprise  too  rash  even 
for  his  temerity.  It  might,  however,  be  possible  to  land 
below  the  cataract  of  Montmorenci,  cross  that  stream  liigher 
up,  and  strike  the  French  army  in  flank  or  rear ;  and  hi^  had 
no  sooner  secured  his  p)sitions  at  the  points  of  Levi  and 
Orleans,  than  he  addressed  himself  to  tins  attempt. 

On  the  eighth  several  frigates  and  a  bomb-ketch  took  their 
stations  before  the  camp  of  the  (,'hevalier  de  L(5vis,  who,  with 
his  division  of  Canadian  militia,  occui)ied  the  heights  along 
the  St.  Lawrence  just  above  the  cataract.  Here  they  shelled 
and  cannonaded  him  all  day;  though,  from  his  elevated 
position,  with  very  little  efl'ect.  Towards  evening  the  ■  -oops 
on  the  Pouit  of  Orleans  broke  up  their  camp.  ^lajor  Lurdy, 
with  a  detachment  of  marines,  was  left  to  hold  that  post 
while  the  rest  embarked  at  night  in  the  boats  of  the  fleet. 
They  were  the  brigades  of  Townshend  and  Murray,  consist- 
ing of  hve  battalions,  with  a  body  of  grenadiers,  light  infantry, 
and  rangers,  —  in  all  three  thousand  men.  They  landed  be- 
fo'o  daybreak  in  front  of  the  parish  of  L'Ange  Gardien,  a 
little  below  the  cataract.  The  only  opiwsitiou  was  from  a 
troop  of  Canadians  and  Indians,  wliom  they  routed,  after 
some  loss,  climbed  the  heights,  gained  the  plateau  above, 
and  began  t(j  intrench  themselves.  A  comi/P:.  '  rangers, 
supported  by  detachments  of  rogidars,  was  ^  ::  'uto  the 
neighboring  forest  to  protect  the  parties  who  "  \e  cutting 
fascines,  and  a]>iiarently,  also,  to  look  for  a  fording-place. 

L^vis,  with  liis  Scotch-Jacobite  aide-de-canij>,  Johnstone, 


,759]  Wolfe  at  Quebec  401 

had  watt'hcil  the  nioveinents  oi  Wolfe  from  the  heights 
across  the  cataract.  Johnstone  says  that  he  asked  his  com- 
luander  if  he  was  sure  there  was  uo  ford  higher  up  on  the 
Montuiorenci,  by  wliirh  the  English  cnuhl  cross,  l^vis 
averred  that  there  was  none,  and  thai  he  himself  had  exam- 
ined tlic  stream  to  its  source;  on  "'-m'!!  a  Caiiadian  who 
stood  l»y  whis])ered  to  the  aide-d'  .np:  "The  general  is 
mistaken;  there  is  a  ford."  Johnstone  told  this  to  licvis, 
who  would  not  believe  it,  and 
so  browbeat  the  (,'anadian  tli.it 
he  dared  not  repeat  what  lie 
had  said.  Johnstone,  talv.!)}/ 
him  aside,  tidd  him  to  go  and 
lind  somebody  who  had  lately 
crossed  the  foul,  and  bring 
him  at  once  to  the  general's 
(piarters;  whereuj)on  he  soon 
reappeared  with  a  man  who 
atlirmed  that  he  had  crossed 
it  the  night  before  with  a  sack 
of  wheat  on  his  back.  A  de- 
tachment was  immediately 
sent  to  the  place,  with  orders  to  intrench  itself,  and  IIeiH?n- 
tigny,  lieutenant  of  L<5vis,  was  posted  not  far  off  with  eleven 
hundred  Canadians. 

Four  hundred  Indians  passed  the  ford  under  the  partisan 
Langlade,  discoverod  Wolfe's  detachment,  hid  themselves, 
and  sent  their  commander  to  tell  Iveitentigny  that  there  was 
a  body  of  English  in  the  forest,  who  might  all  be  destroyed 
if  he  would  come  over  at  once  with  his  Canadians.  TJepen- 
tigny  sent  for  orders  to  Ldvis,  and  L<jvis  sent  for  orders  to 
Vaudreuil,  whose  quarters  were  three  or  four  miles  distant. 

26 


C/teealicr  (le  Levis 


402  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

Vauilreuil  answered  that  no  risk  should  be  run,  and  that 
lie  would  come  and  see  to  the  matter  himself.  It  was  about 
two  hours  before  he  arrived;  and  meanwhile  the  Indians 
grew  impatient,  rose  from  their  hiding-place,  tired  on  the 
rangers,  and  drove  them  back  with  heavy  loss  upon  the 
regulars,  who  stood  their  ground,  and  at  last  repulsed 
the  assailants.  The  Indians  recrossed  the  ford  with  thirty- 
six  scalps.  If  IJeiientigny  had  advanced,  and  I^vis  had 
followed  with  his  main  boily,  the  consequences  to  the  Eng- 
lish might  have  been  serious;  for,  as  Johnstone  remarks, 
"  a  Canadian  in  llie  woods  is  worth  three  disciplined  soldiers, 
as  a  soldier  in  a  plain  is  worth  three  Canadians."  Vaudreuil 
called  a  council  of  war.  The  question  was  whether  an 
effort  should  be  made  to  dislodge  "Wolfe's  maiu  fojce. 
Mfintcalm  and  tlie  governor  were  tliis  time  of  one  mind, 
and  both  thought  it  incxjiedient  to  attack,  with  militia,  a 
body  of  regular  troops  wliose  numbers  and  position  were 
imi)erfectly  known.  IJigot  gave  his  voice  f<jr  the  attack.  He 
was  overruled,  and  Wolfe  was  left  to  fortify  himself  in  [)eace. 
His  occuiiation  of  the  heights  of  Montmorenci  exposed 
him  to  great  risks.  The  left  wing  of  his  army  at  Point  Levi 
was  six  miles  from  its  right  wing  at  the  cataract,  and  Major 
Hardy's  detacliment  on  the  Toint  of  Orleans  was  between 
tliem,  separated  from  each  by  a  wide  arm  of  the  St.  I^w- 
renee.  Any  one  of  the  three  camps  might  be  overjHnvered 
before  the  others  could  support  it;  and  Hardy  with  his 
stuall  force  was  above  all  in  danger  of  being  cut  to  })ieces. 
But  the  French  kept  persistently  on  the  defensive;  and  after 
the  failure  of  Dumas  to  dislodge  the  English  from  Point 
Levi,  Vaudreuil  would  not  hear  of  another  such  attempt. 
Wolfe  was  soon  well  intrenched;  but  it  was  easier  to 
defend  himself   than   to  strike   at   his  enemy.     Montcalm, 


J7591 


Wolfe  at  Quebec 


403 


when  uijreil  to  attack  him,  is  said  to  have  answered :  "  Let 
him  amuse  himself  where  lie  i.^.  1  f  we  drive  him  oil'  he  may 
{TO  to  some  place  wliere  he  can  do  us  harm."  His  late  move- 
ment, however,  had  a  discouraging  effect  on  the  Canadians, 
who  now  for  the  tirst  time  began  to  desert.  His  batteries,  tw), 
played  across  the  chasm  of  Montmorenci  upon  the  left  wing 
of  the  French  army  with  an  effect  extremely  annoying. 

The  position  of  the  hostile  forces  was  a  remarkable  one. 
They  were  separated  by  the  vast  gorge  that  opens  ui^n  the 
St.   Lawrence;    an   amphitheatre   of  lofty   precipices,  their 
brows   crested   with    forests,   and   their  steep   brown  sides 
scantily  feathere.1   with  stinited   birch  and   Hr.     Into   this 
abyss  leaps  the  Montmorenci  with  one  headlong  plunge  of 
nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  a  living  column  of  snowy 
white,  with  its  spray,  its  f.iam,  its  mists,  and  its  rainbows  ; 
then  spreads  itself  in  broad  thin  sheets  over  a  floor  of  rock 
and  gravel,  and  creeps  tamely  to  the  St.  I^vwreuce.     It  was 
but  a  gunshot  across  the  gulf,  and  the  sentinels  on  each  side 
watched  each  other  over  the  roar  and  turmoil  of  the  cataract. 
Captain  Knox,  coming  one  day  from  Point  I^vi  to  receive 
orders  from  Wolfe,  improved  a  spare  hour  to  visit  this  mar- 
vel of  nature.     «  I  had  very  nigh  paid  dear  for  my  inquisitive- 
ness ;  for  while  I  stiH)d  on  the  eminence  I  was  hastily  called 
to  by  one  of  our  sentinels,  when,  throwing  my  eyes  about,  I 
saw  a  Frenchman   creeping  under  the  eastern  extremity  of 
their  breastwork  to  tire  at  me.     This  obliged  me  to  retire  as 
fast  as  I  could  out  of  his  reach,  and,  making  up  to  the  sentry 
to  thank  him  for  his  attention,  he  told  me  the  fellow  had 
snapped  his  piece  twice,  and  the  second  time  it  flashed  in 
the    pan   at  the   instant   I   turned   away    from   the  Fall" 
Another  officer,  less  fortunate,  had  a  leg  broken  by  a  shot 
from  the  opposite  cliffs. 


I*'.  i 


I'iiir ' 


404  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

iJay  after  day  went  by,  atul  the  invaders  made  no  progress. 
Flags   of   truce   ])ass('d    often   lK3t\veen   the   hostile   camps. 
"  You  will  demolish  the  town,  no  doubt,"  said  the  bearer  of 
one  of  them,   "  but   you    shall  never  get  inside  of  it."     To 
which  Wolfe  replied :  "  1  will  have  (Quebec  if  I  stay  here  till 
the  end  of  November."     Sometimes  the  lieat  was  intense, 
and  sometimes  there  were  floods  of  summer  rain  that  inun- 
dated the  tents.     Along  the  river,  Iwm  the  ^loutmorenci  to 
Point  Levi,  there  were  ceaseless  artillery  fights  between  gun- 
boats, frigates,  and  batteries  on  sh<jre.      Bands  of  Indians 
infested   the  outskirts   of   the  can)i)s,  killing  sentries  and 
patrols.     The  rangers  eluised  them  tlirough  the  woods ;  there 
were  brisk  skirmishes,  and  scali)s  lost  and  won.     Sometimes 
the  regulars  took  part  in  tiiese  forest  battles ;  and  once  it  was 
announced,  in  orders  of  the  day,  that  "  the  general  has  ordered 
two  sheep  and  some  rum  to  Cai)tain  Cosnan's  company  of 
grenadiers  for  the  spirit  they  showed  this  morning  in  push- 
ing those  scoundrels  of  Indians."     The  Indians  comi)lained 
that  the  British  soldiers  were  learning  how  to  fight,  and  no 
longer  stood  still  in  a  mass  to  be  shot  at,  as  in  Braddock's 
time.     The  Canadian  coureurs  de  hois  mixed  with  their  red 
allies  and  wore  their  livery.     One  of  them  'vas  caught  on 
the  eighteenth.     He  was  naked,  daubed  red  and  blue,  and 
adorned  with  a  bunch  of  painted  feathers  dangling  from  the 
top  of  his  head.     lie  and  his  companions  used  tlie  scalping- 
knife  as  freely  as  the  Indians  themselves ;  nor  were  the  Xew 
England  rangers  much  behind  them  in  this  respect,  till  an 
order  came  from  Wolfe  forbidding  "  the  inhuman  practice  of 
scalping,  except  when  the  enemy  are  Indians,  or  Canadians 
dressed  like  Indians." 

A  jtart  of  the  Heet  worked  up  into  the  Basin,  beyond  the 
I'oiut  of  Orleans;  and  here,  on  the  warm  summer  nights, 


1759]  Wolfe  2t  -Huebec  405 

()fti(!ers  aud  men  watdicd  tlie  cannon  Hushi.ig  and  thundt'iing 
from  the  hei},'lit.s  of  Montmoreiu-i  on  on.  side,  and  those  of 
Pohit  \.'?\i  on  the  other,  ami  the  bombs  sailinj^  throu^di  the 
air  in  tiery  semicircles.  Often  tlie  <^loom  was  lij^hted  up  by 
the  bla?e  of  tlic  b'  houses  of  (Jiiebec,  kindled  by  incen- 

diary shells.     IJoll  l')\veran<l  the  upper  town  were  nearly 

deserted  l>y  the  inhab.uints,  some  retreating  into  the  country, 
and  some  into  the  suburb  of  St.  Koch;  wliile  the  Ursulines 
and  Hospital  nuns  al)andoned  their  convents  to  seek  harbor- 
age beyond  the  range  of  shot.  The  city  was  a  ])rey  to  robbers, 
who  pillaged  the  em[)ty  liouses,  till  an  order  came  from  head- 
quarters promising  tlie  gallows  to  all  wiio  should  be  caught. 
News  reached  the  French  that  Niagara  was  attacked,  and 
that  the  army  of  Andierst  was  moving  against  Ticonderoga. 
The  Canadians  deserted  more  and  more.  They  were  dis- 
heartened by  the  defensive  attitude  in  which  both  Vaiidreuil 
and  Montcalm  .steadily  persisted;  and  accustomed  as  they 
were  to  rai)id  raids,  sudden  strokes,  and  a  quick  return  to 
their  homes,  they  tired  of  long  weeks  of  inaction.  The  Eng- 
lish patrols  caught  one  of  them  as  he  was  passing  the  time 
in  Hshing.  "He  seemed  to  be  a  subtle  old  rogue,"  says 
Knox,  "  of  seventy  years  of  age,  as  he  told  us.  "NVe  plied 
him  well  with  port  wine,  ami  then  his  heart  was  more  open ; 
and  seeing  that  we  laughed  at  the  exaggerated  accounts  he 
had  given  us,  he  said  he '  wished  the  affair  was  well  over, 
one  way  or  the  other;  that  his  countrymen  were  all  iliscon- 
teuted,  aud  would  either  surrender,  or  disperse  and  act  a 
neutral  part,  if  it  were  not  for  the  persuasions  of  their  priests 
and  the  fear  of  being  maltreated  by  the  savages,  with  whom 
they  are  threatened  on  all  occasions.' "  A  deserter  reported 
on  the  nineteenth  of  July  that  nothing  but  dread  of  the 
Indians  kept  the  Canadians  in  the  camp. 


1^ 


i 


406  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (1759 

Wolfe's  jiroclamatinii,  at  tiist  iiiiavailinj?,  was  now  taking 
c'llect.  A  laif^e  number  of  Canadian  juisoners,  broiijjht  in 
on  the  twenty-fil'lli,  declaretl  that  their  countrymen  would 
j^hidly  aci'ejtt  his  (ifl'eis  liut  for  the  threats  of  their  comman- 
ders that  if  they  did  so  the  Indians  should  be  set  ninin  them. 
The  prisoners  said  further  that  "  they  had  l»en  under  appre- 
hension for  several  days  past  of  havinj;  a  body  of  four  hun- 
dred barbarians  sent  to  ritle  their  jiarish  ami  hal)itations." 
Such  threats  were  not  wholly  efTectual.  A  French  chronicler 
of  the  time  says:  "The  (Jaiiiidians  showed  their  disjrust 
every  day,  and  deserted  at  every  ojiiMirtunity,  in  sjiito  of  the 
means  taken  to  jirevent  them."  "The  people  wro  intimi- 
dated, seeinff  all  our  army  kept  in  one  body  and  solely  on 
the  defensive;  while  the  Kufflish,  thouf^di  far  less  numerous, 
divided  their  fonics,  ami  undertook  various  bold  enterprises 
without  meeting  resistance." 

On  the  eighteenth  the  Knglish  accomplished  a  feat  which 
promised  important  results.  The  French  commanders  had 
thought  it  impossible  for  any  hostile  shi])  to  pass  the  bat- 
teries of  Quelicc;  but  about  eleven  o'clock  at  niglil,  favored 
by  the  wind,  and  covered  by  a  finious  cannonade  from  I'oint 
Levi,  the  ship  "  Sutherland,"  with  a  frigate  and  several  small 
vessels,  sailed  safely  by  and  reached  the  river  above  the 
town.  Here  they  at  once  attacked  and  destroyed  a  iireship 
rud  some  small  craft  that  they  found  there.  Now,  for  the 
first  time,  it  became  necessary  for  Alouteahu  to  weaken  his 
army  at  lieauport  "  •  sending  six  hundred  men,  \uuler 
Dumas,  to  defend  the  ccessible  points  in  the  line  of  preci- 
pices between  Quebec  and  Cap-Rouge.  Several  hundred 
more  were  sent  on  the  next  day,  when  it  liei-ame  known 
that  the  English  had  dragged  a  lleet  of  boats  over  Point  Levi, 
launched  them  above  the  town,  and  despatclud  troops  to 


i 


,759]  VVolte  at  Quebec  407 

embark  in  tliom.  Thus  a  new  featiuo  was  intr«Ml\i(»Ml  into 
the  siege  operations,  and  danger  had  risen  on  a  side  where 
the  French  thought  themselves  safe.  On  the  other  liand, 
Wolfe  had  become  more  vulnerable  than  ever.  His  army 
was  now  divided,  not  into  three  parts,  but  into  four,  each  so 
far  from  the  rest  that,  in  case  of  sudden  attack,  it  must  defend 


View  of  Vaji-Bouge 

itself  alone.    That  Montcalm  did  not  improve  his  oppoitunity 
war,  apparently  due  to  want  of  confidence  in  liis  militia. 

The  force  alwve  the  town  did  not  lie  idle.  On  the  night 
of  the  twentieth,  Colonel  Carleton,  wnth  six  hundred  men, 
rowed  eighteen  miles  up  the  river,  and  landed  at  Pointe-aux- 
Trembles,  on  the  north  shore.  Here  some  of  the  families  of 
Quebec  had  sought  asylum ;  and  W  e  had  been  told  by 
prisoners  that  not  only  were  stores  in  great  (quantity  to  be 
found  here,  but  also  letters  and  papers  throwing  light  on  tlie 
French  plans.  Carleton  and  liis  men  drove  off  a  band  of 
Indians  who  fired  on  them,  and  spent  a  quiet  day  around  the 


P!       i 


408  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  11759 

parisli  church;  )>iit  foim.l  few  jiapors,  ami  Mill  fewer  stores. 
They  withdrew  towards  evening',  carrviii^' with  tlicm  nearly 
a  hundretl  women,  children,  and  ohl  men;  and  tliey  were 
no  sooner  gone  than  the  Indians  returned  to  jiluiuh-r  the 
enijity  liouses  of  their  unfortunate  allies.  'I'lie  j)ri.»oners 
were  treated  with  preat  kindness.  TIio  ladies  amonjr  them 
were  entertaine.l  at  suiiiH.'r  l»y  Wolfe,  who  jested  with  them 
on  the  caution  of  the  French  penerals,  sayinj,':  "  I  have 
given  |,'(M»d  chances  to  attack  me,  and  am  suriaised  that  tliey 
have  n<.t  profited  hy  (hem."  On  the  ne.xt  tiay  the  jMisoners 
were  all  sent  to  (^uehec  under  a  Hai;  of  (ru<  e. 

Thus  far  Wolfe  had  refrained  from  executinjf  the  threats  he 
had  attixed  the  month  liefore  to  the  church  of  lieauniont.  IWiL 
now  he  issued  another  phHlaniation.  It  declared  that  the 
Canadians  hail  shown  themselves  unworthy  of  the  ofTers  he 
had  made  thcfn,  and  tliat  he  had  therefore  ordered  his  light 
troojo  to  ravage  their  country  and  bring  them  pris(»ners  to 
his  camp.  Such  of  the  Canadian  militia  as  belonged  t*)  the 
parishes  near  Quebec,  were  now  in  a  sad  dilemma;  for  ]Mont- 
calm  threatened  them  on  one  side,  and  Wolfe  on  the  other. 
They  might  desert  to  their  homes,  or  they  might  stand  by  their 
colors;  in  the  one  case  their  houses  were  to  be  burned  liv 
French  savages,  and  in  the  other  by  Iiriti>h  light  infantry. 

Wolfe  at  oncu  gave  orders  in  accord  with  his  late  procla- 
mation; but  he  commanded  that  no  church  should  be  pro- 
faned, and  no  woman  or  child  injured.  The  first  efTccts  of 
his  stern  jiolicy  are  thus  recorded  by  Knox:  "Major  ])al- 
ling's  light  infantry  brought  in  this  afternoon  to  our  camp 
two  hundred  and  fifty  male  and  female  ])risoncrs.  Among 
this  number  was  a  very  respectable-looking  ]»riest,  and  about 
forty  men  fit  to  bear  arms.  There  was  almost  an  eiiual  num- 
ber of  black  cattle,  with  about  seventy  sheep  and  lambs,  and 


I75«l 


Wolfe  at  Quebec 


409 


a  f«'\v  horflea.  r>ri},'ailior  Monckloii  entertained  the  reverend 
father  and  some  other  fasliiouable  i^rauuages  in  his  tent,  and 
most  humanely  ordered  refreshments  to  all  the  rest  of  the 
captives;  which  noble  example  was  followed  by  the  soldiery, 
who  generou:ily  crowiled  about  those  unhappy  people,  sharing 
their  provisions,  rum,  and  tobacco  with  them.  They  were 
sent  in  the  evening  0:1  board  of  transports  iu  the  river." 
A"uin.  two  davs  later:  "Colonel  Fraser's  detachment  re- 
turned  this  morning,  and  presented  us  with  more  scenes  of 
distress  and  the  dismal  consfMpiences  of  war,  by  a  great  num- 
ber of  wretched  families,  whom  they  bro..ght  in  prisoners, 
with  some  of  their  effects,  and  near  three  hundred  black 
cattle,  sheep,  hogs,  and  horses." 

On  the  next  niglit  the  attention  of  the  excellent  joumalist 
was  otherwise  engaged.  Vaudreuil  tried  again  to  burn  the 
English  fleet.  "  Late  last  night,"  writes  Knox,  under  date  of 
the  twenty-eighth,  "  the  enemy  sent  down  a  most  formidable 
tireraft,  which  consisted  of  a  parcel  of  schooners,  shallops, 
and  stages  chained  togetlier.  It  could  not  be  less  than  a 
hundred  fathoms  in  length,  and  was  covered  with  grenades, 
old  swivels,  gi.u  and  pistol  ban-els  loaded  up  to  their  muzzles, 
and  various  other  inventions  and  combustible  matters.  This 
seemed  to  be  their  last  attempt  against  our  fleet,  which  hap- 
pily miscarried,  as  before  ;  for  our  gallant  seamen,  with  their 
usual  expertness,  grappled  them  before  they  got  down  above 
a  third  part  of  the  Basin,  towed  them  safe  to  shore,  and  left 
them  at  anchor.  'Continually  repeating,  All 's  well.  A  remark- 
able expression  from  some  of  these  intrepid  souls  to  their 
comrades  on  this  occasion  I  must  not  omit,  on  account  of 
its  singular  uncouthness ;  namely :  '  Damme,  Jack,  didst 
thee  over  take  hell  in  tow  before  ? ' " 

According  to  a  French  account,  this  aquatic  infernal  ma- 


!    ! 


410  The  Struggle  lot  a  Continent  I17M 

chine  cuusisLed  of  scveiuy  rafts,  bouts,  ami  scliuuucrs.  It» 
I'uiliue  was  due  to  no  shurtcuniiu},'  on  tliu  ]»art  of  its  conduc- 
tors; who,  uuilcr  a  brave  Cauudiun  xiamcd  Cntirval,  acted 
with  coolnesy  and  resolution.  Muthing  saved  the  tlfet  but 
the  courage  of  the  sailors,  bwariuing  out  iu  their  boats  to 
ligiit  the  ai'ijroaching  contlagratiou. 

It  was  uow  the  ei'd  of  July.    More  than  half  the  summer 
was  goue,  and  (^hiebec;  seeiued  us  far  as  ever  tn-yontl  ihu 
gi-asp  of  WollV'.     Its  buildings  were  iu  ruins,  and  the  neigh- 
boring parishes  were  burned  and  ravaged;  but  its  living  ram- 
part, the  army  of  ^Montcalm,  still  lay  in  jwti'jiit  deHance 
along  the  shores  of  IJeauporl,  while  al.o\e  the  city  .very 
point  where  a  wild   oat   could   climb   the   precipices   was 
watched  and  guarded,  and  Dumas  with  a  thou -and  men  held 
the  impregnable  heights  of  Cap-Houge.     Montcalm  persisted 
in  doing  nothuig  that  his  enemy  wished  hini  to  do.     lie 
would  not  fight  on  Wolfe's  terms,  and  WtJfe  resolved  nt  last 
to  tight  him  on  his  own  ;  that  is,  to  attack  h.    camp  in  front. 
The  plan  was  dcspemtc  ;  for,  after  leaving;  lnx)])H  enough 
to  hold  Point  I^viand  the  heights  t)f  Moriiniorenci,  less  than 
five  tiKtusand  men  wouM  be  left  to  attack  a  ).ositi( n  of  com- 
manding strength,  where  M..ntcaliii  at  an  hour's  notice  could 
cf.llect  twice  as  many  to  oppose  them.     Ikit  Wolfe  had  a 
boundless  trust  in  the  disciplined  valor  of  his  soldiers,  and 
an  utter  scorn  of  the  nulitia  who  made  the  greater  part  of 
his  enemy's  force. 

Towards  the  Alontmorenci  the  borders  of  the  Si  Liwrence 
are,  as  we  have  seen,  extremely  high  and  steep.  At  a  mile 
from  the  gorge  i»f  the  cataract  thei-e  is,  at  high  ti.le,  a  strand, 
about  the  eighth  of  a  mile  wide,  between  the  foot  of  these 
heights  and  the  river;  and  beyond  this  strand  the  receding 
tide  lays  bare  a  tract  (.f  mud  nearly  half  a  mile  wide.     At 


1 759 1 


Wolfe  at  Qucf>ec 


411 


till'  edge  of  the  <:  v  gnmntl  tlu-  Fn'ii.  i  hnd  Iniilt  a  rt'dit!  a 
ijiountud  with  c.inuu,  aiul  there  were  her  Mimihir  wuias 
(ju  tht!  struiiii  a  tj  larter  of  a  niile  ueariT  the  calaruei.  Wolfe 
couhl  uuL  SI'  froitj  ihe  river  that  tlief^<  re<hml)ts  were  cnm- 
inamleil  by  the  niu.-ketry  of  the  hitreuchiuents  ahmj?  the 
brink  of  the  hei-ht-  above.  These  iutn  hiueuts  were  so 
eoii.stnu'tecl  that  ih'  y  swept  with  ei-oss-tires  the  whole  face 
of  the  deelivity,  wlii.  h  was  covered  with  gi  s,  ami  was  very 
steej).  \\\)lfe  hojied  tli.it,  if  he  attaeked  oii<'  of  the  redoubts, 
the  French  would  come  down  to  defend  it,  ami  ^'  brinj,'  on 
a  general  enjjageineut ;  «»r,  if  they  did  not,  tli  -  he  shouM 
gain  an  o|i|Mirtunity  of  i oconnoitring  the  heights  to  find  some 
lM)int  where  they  could  be  stormed  with  a  cluuit  e  of  succesi«. 

In  froi.L  of  the  gorge  of  the  MontnK>renci  there  was  a  ford 
during  several  hours  of  low  tide,  so  that  troops  froni  the  ad- 
j(<ining  Knglisli  camp  might  cross  to  eo-oi)erate  \.ith  their 
<•  «mrades  landing  in  boats  from  Point  Levi  and  the  Island  of 
<  Ml  -ans.  < )n  the  morning  of  the  thirty-first  of  July,  the  tide 
iV.-n  being  at  tlie  flood,  the  French  saw  the  ship  "  Centurion," 
of  sixty-four  ginis,  am! Hir  near  the  Montmorenci  ami  oj)en 
tire  on  the  reiiMiibl.^.  Then  two  armed  transiM.rts,  each  <£ 
fourteen  gu;.,  i-f.  l  in  as  close  as  possible  to  the  first  re- 
doubt and  lii..i  upon  it,  stranding  as  the  tide  went  out,  till 
in  the  aliernoon  they  lay  bare  upon  the  mud.  At  the  same 
tune  a  bu.tery  of  more  than  forty  heavy  pieces,  planted  on 
the  lofty  promontory  beyond  the  Montmorenci,  began  a  fiii- 
ous  camionade  upon  the  flank  of  the  French  intrenchraents. 
It  did  no  great  harm,  however,  for  the  works  were  protected 
'  a  great  number  of  traverses,  which  stt)pped  the  shot ;  and 
the  anadians,  who  manned  this  part  of  the  lines,  held  their 
gro.nd  with  excellent  steadiness. 

About  eleven  o'clock  a  fleet  of  boats  filled  with  troops, 


if 

i   ? 


412  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

chiefly  from  Poiut  I^vi,  appcareil  in  the  river  and  hovered 
off  the  shore  west  of  the  parish  church  of  Ueauport,  as  if 
meaning  to  land  there.  Montcalm  was  perplexed,  doubting 
whether  the  real  attack  was  to  l>e  made  here,  or  toward  the 
Montmorenci.  Hour  after  hour  the  boats  moved  to  and  fro, 
to  increase  his  doubts  and  hide  the  real  design ;  but  he  soon 
became  convinced  that  the  camp  of  I^vis  at  the  Montmo- 
renci was  the  true  object  of  his  enemy;  and  about  two 
o'clock  he  went  ti.ither,  greeted  as  he  rode  along  the  lines 
by  shouts  of  Vive  notre  General  !  Levis  had  already  made 
preparations  for  defence  with  his  usual  skill.  His  Canadians 
were  reinforced  by  the  battalions  of  B^arn,  CJuienne,  and 
Koyal  Roussillon ;  and,  as  the  intentions  of  Wolfe  became 
certain,  the  right  of  the  camp  was  nearly  abandoned,  the 
maui  strength  of  the  army  being  gathered  between  the  river 
of  Beauport  and  the  ^lontmorenci,  where,  according  to  a 
French  writer,  there  were,  towards  the  end  of  the  afternoon, 
about  twelve  thousand  men. 

At  half-past  five  o'clock  the  tide  was  out,  and  the  crisis 
came.  The  batteries  across  the  Montmorenci,  the  distant 
batteries  of  Point  I^vi,  the  cannon  of  the  "  Centurion,"  and 
those  of  the  two  stranded  ships,  all  opened  together  with  re- 
doubled fury.  The  French  batteries  replied  ;  and,  amid  this 
deafening  roar  of  artillery,  tho  English  t)oats  set  their  troops 
ashore  at  the  edge  of  the  broad  tract  of  sedgy  mud  that  the 
receding  river  had  left  Tare.  At  the  same  time  a  column  of 
two  thousand  men  ^vas  seen,  a  mile  away,  moving  in  perfect 
order  across  the  Montmorenci  ford.  The  first  troops  that 
landed  from  the  boats  were  thirteen  companies  of  gi-enadiers 
and  a  detachment  of  Royal  Americans.  They  dashed  swiftly 
forward ;  while  at  some  distance  behind  came  Monckton's 
brigade,  composed  of  the  fifteenth,  or  Amherst's  regiment. 


17591  Wolfe  at  Quebec  4^3 

and  the  seventy-eighth,  or  Fraser's  Highlanders.  The  day 
had  been  fair  and  warm;  but  the  sky  was  now  thick  with 
clouds,  and  lai-ge  rain-drops  began  to  fall,  the  precursors  of  a 

summer  storm. 

With  the  utmost  precipitation,  without  orders,  and  without 
waiting  for  Mouckton's  brigade  to  come  up,  the  grenadiers 
in  front  made  a  rush  for  the  redoubt  near  the  foot  of  the 
hill.     The  French  abandoned  it ;  but  the  assailants  had  no 
sooner  gained  their  prize  than  the  thronged  heights  above 
blazed  with  musketry,  and  a  tempest  of  bullets  fell  among 
tliem.     Nothing  daunted,  they  dashed  forward  again,  reserv- 
ing their  fire,  and  struggling  to  climb  the  steep  ascent ;  while, 
wiUi  yells  and  shouts  of  Vice  le  Boi  !  the  troops  and  Cana- 
dians at  the  top  poured  upm  them  a  hailstorm  of  musket- 
balls  and  buckshot,  and  dead  and  woun.led  in  numbers  rolled 
together  down  the  sloi.e.     At  that  instant  the  clouds  burst, 
and  the  rain  fell  in  torrents.    «  We  could  not  see  half  way 
d..wn  the  hill,"  says  the  Chevalier  Johnstone,  who  was  at 
this  part  of  the  line.     Ammunition  was  wet  on  both  sides, 
and  the  gmssv  steeps  became  so  slipj^ry  that  it  v.  as  impos- 
sible t..  cUmb  them.     The  English  say  that  the  storm  saved 
the  French  ;  the  French,  with  as  much  reason,  that  it  saved 

the  English. 

The  battled  grenadiers  drew  back  into  the  redoubt.  Wolfe 
saw  the  madness  of  persisting,  and  ordered  a  retreat.  The 
rain  ceased,  and  troops  of  Indians  came  down  the  heights  to 
scalp  the  fallen.  'Some  of  them  ran  towards  Lieutenant 
Peyton  of  the  Roval  Ameri.-ans,  as  he  lay  disabled  by  a 
musket-shot.  With  his  d....ble-banellod  gun  he  brought 
down  two  of  his  assailants,  when  a  Highland  sergeant 
snatched  him  m  his  arms,  dragged  him  half  a  mile  over  the 
mud-tlats.  and  placed  him  in  one  of  the  boats.     A  friend  of 


4H  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

Peyton,  Captain  OdiU'ilony,  had  received  a  inoiial  vvdiiml, 
and  an  Indian  would  liuve  .sealjfed  him  but  fnr  tl  e  generous 
intrepidity  of  a  sohlier  of  the  battalion  of  (hiienne;  who, 
seizing  the  enraged  savage,  held  him  back  till  .several  French 
officers  interposed,  and  had  the  dying  man  carried  to  a  place 
of  safety. 

The  P^nglish  retreated  in  good  (»r<kr,  after  seti  i^  ;;re  to  the 
two  stranded  vesstds.  'rh<.-,e  of  llie  grenadiers  ad  Koyal 
Americans  who  were  l.-t't  alive  rowed  for  the  Point  of 
Orleans;  the  fifteenth  regiment  rowe<l  for  Point  f.evi ;  and 
the  Highlanders,  led  by  Widfe  himself,  joined  tht;  colujun 
from  beyond  the  Montmorenci,  placing  themselves  in  its  rear 
as  it  sh)wly  retired  along  the  flats  and  across  the  ford,  the 
Indians  yelling  and  the  French  sliouting  from  the  heights, 
while  the  Pritish  waved  their  hats,  daring  them  to  come 
down  and  fight. 

The  grenadiers  and  the  Royal  Americans,  who  had  borne 
the  brunt  of  the  fray,  bore  also  nearly  all  tlie  h.ss;  which, 
in  lu'oportion  to  their  numbers,  was  enormous.  Knox  reports 
it  at  four  hundred  and  forty-three,  killed,  wounded,  and 
missing,  including  one  colonel,  eight  captains,  twenty-one 
lieutenants,  and  three  ensi<'ns. 

Vaudreuil,  delighted,  wn.te  10  P>ourlama(|ue  an  account 
of  the  affair.  "I  have  no  more  anxiety  alxtut  (^hiebec.  Af. 
■\Volfc.  i  can  assure  you,  will  make  no  progress.  Luckily  for 
him,  his  prudence  saved  him  from  the  couseciuences  of  his 
mad  enterprise,  and  he  contented  himself  with  losing  about 
five  hundred  of  his  best  wddiers.  Deserters  say  that  he 
will  try  us  again  in  a  few  days.  That  is  what  we  want; 
he'll  find  someliody  to  talk  to  {if  troinrra  a  qui  jjarler)." 


m  \ 


1759. 


The  Heiglws  of  Abraham 


415 


THK    IIKKillTS  OK  ABRAHAM » 


Woi.FK  was  <leeply  moved  by  the  disaster  at  the  hei<,'hts 
(if  Moiitni<'r(Mi''i,  ami  in  a  ricneral  Oder  un  th*  next  day 
he  rebuked  tlie  grenadiers  for  their  ptviripitatJin.  "  Sucli 
iiiiltetunus,  irregular,  and  unsoWierlike  proceedings  destroy 
all  order,  make  it  iinp>ssible  for  the  commajxiera  to  form 
any  disjxjsition  for  an  atlaek.  and  put  it  out  uf  the  gen- 
eral's jtower  to  execute  his  plans.  The  gretiadiers  <  luld  not 
suppose  that  viiey  ('ouhl  beat  the  French  alone." 

The  French  were  elated  by  their  success.  "Fa'Ct  >"(i\," 
says  tlie  comnussary  lierniers,  "thought  that  the  camjwiign 
was  as  good  as  ended,  glorious^,'  fur  us."  They  had  Iw-n 
sulliriently  cunfid^fit  even  liefore  their  victory  .  and  the 
bearer  of  a  l!ag  of  trttce  told  tlie  English  officers  tliat  lie 
had  never  imagine<l  they  were  such  fools  as  to  attack 
guebec  with  so  small  a  force.  Wolfe,  on  the  other  liand, 
had  every  reason  to  despond.  At  the  outset,  before  he  had 
seen  Quebec  and  learned  the  nature  of  the  ground,  he 
had  meant  to  begin  the  campaign  by  taking  post  on  the 
Plains  of  AlMuham,  and  thence  laying  siege  to  the  town; 
but  h«!  soon  discovered  that  the  Plains  of  Abraham  were 
hardly  more  within  his  reach  than  was  Quebec  itself. 
Such  hope  as  was  left  hira  lay  in  the  composition  of 
Montcalm's  army.  He  respected  the  French  commander, 
and  thought  his  disciplined  soldiers  not  unworthy  of  the 

>  Montcalm  an.l  Wolfe.  Vol.  II.,  Ch.  XXVII. 


;!    ' 


I  I 


416  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [«r59 

British  sieel;  but  he  held  his  nnlitia  in  high  scorn,  and 
could  he  but  fare  them  in  the  open  field,  he  never  doubted 
the  resuU.  But  Montcalm  nko  distrusted  them,  and  per- 
sisted in  refusing  the  coveted  battle.  ,,,,:„ 
Wolfe,  therefore,  was  forced  to  the  conviction  that  his 
chances  were  of  the  smallest.  It  is  said  that,  despair.ng  of 
any  decisive  stroke,  he  conceived  the  idea  of  fortifying  Isle- 
Jx-Coudres.  and  leaving  a  ^rt  of  his  troops  there  when 

he  sailed   for  home,  against 
i.;;^:-^^;  ""^  '  another  attempt  in  the  spring. 

The  more  to  weaken  the  ene- 
my  and   prepare  his   future 
conquest,  he    began    at   the 
'^ame  time  a  course  of  actit>u 
which  for  his  credit  one  would 
dadly  wipe  from  the  record  ; 
for,  though  far  from  inhuman, 
he    threw   himself   with  ex- 
traordinary   intensity    inti> 
whatever  work  he  had  hi  hand, 
and,  to  accomplish  it.  spared 
others  scarcelv  more  than  he 
spared  himself.     About  the  middle  of   August  he  issued  a 
third  proclamation  to  the  Canadians,  declaring  that  as  lhe> 
had  refused  his  offers  of  protection  and  '■  had  made  such  un- 
grateful returns  in  practising  the  most  unchristian  barbari- 
ties against  his  tnK,ps  on  all  occasions,  he  could  no  longer 
refrain  in  justice  to  himself  and  his  army  fn>m  chastising 
them  as  they  deserved."     The  barbarities  in  question  con- 
sisted in  the  frequent  scalping  and  mmihiting  of  sentinels 
and  n,en  on  outpost  duty,  ^KM-petrated  no  less  by  t  anadians 
than  bv  Indians.     Wolfe's  object  was  twofold :  first,  to  cause 


Marquis  de  Muntailin 


.759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  4i7 

the  militia  to  desert,  ami,  secmlly,  to  exhaust  the  colony, 
dangers,  light  infantry,  ami  Highlanders  were  sent  to  wa«te 
U,e    settlements    far   and   wide.     Wherever   resistance   was 
uiVered,  farmhouses  and  villages  were  laid  in  ashes,  ih.mgh 
churches  were  generally  siuue.l.     St.  Paul,  far  below  iiue\>er, 
was  sacked  an.l  hurned,  and  the  settlements  of  the  opj-site 
,horc   were    partially    destroyed.     The   parishes  <.t    LAnge 
(lardien,  Chateau  Ki.hcr,  ami  St.  Joachim  were  wasted  with 
Hre  ;ind  sw..rd.     Xight  after  night   the  garrison  of  (Quebec 
....uld  see  the  light  of   hurnuig  houses  as  far  down  as  the 
numntain  of  Cai»e  Tourmente.     Near  St.  .h.a.him  then'  wa> 
a  -^'vere  skirmish,  folh.wed  by  atr.H:ious  cnaelties.     Citptam 
Alexander   >I..nlgoi»^-.  -t   the   f..rty-third    regiment,  who 
commamled  the  deiuchment,and  wh.-  has  been  must  unjustij 
confounded  with  the  revolutioimr}-  general  liichanl  Mont- 
g.,merv,  ordered   the    prisoners  to  he    shot    m    cold   bl....l. 
to  thJ  indignati.ai  of  his  own  othcers.     llobineau  de  I'on- 
ueuf,  curd  of  St.  J.-achim,  placed  himself   at  the  head  -4 
thirtv  parishioners  and  t.)ok  possession  of  a  large  stone  house 
in  the  adjacent  parish  of  Chateau  Richer,  where  for  a  unie 
he  hel.l  the  English  at  bay.     At  length  he  and  his  followers 
were  drawn  out  hito  an  ambush,  where  they  were  surrounde.! 
and   killed;    and.  being  disguised  as  Indians,  the  rangers 

scai|>ed  them  all. 

Most  <.f  the  French  writers  of  the  time  mention  these 
barbarities  without  much  comment,  while  Vaudreuil  loudly 
denounces  them.  Yet  he  himself  was  answerable  for  atrcx^i- 
ties  incomparably  worse,  and  on  a  far  larger  scale.  He  had 
turned  loose  his  savages,  red  and  white,  ahnig  a  frontier  of 
six  hundred  miles,  to  waste,  burn,  and  murder  at  will. 
"  Women  and  children."  such  were  the  orders  of  Wolfe, 
"  are  tu  be  treated  with  humanity ;  if  any  violence  is  of- 


Ji 


I  1 


418  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

fered  to  a  woman,  the  olTender  shall  be  punished  with 
death."  These  orders  were  generally  obeyed.  The  English, 
with  the  single  exception  of  ^lontgomerj-,  killed  none  but 
armed  men  in  the  act  of  resistance  or  attack ;  Vaudreuil's 
war-i)artie3  spared  neither  age  nor  sex. 

Montcalm  let  the  parishes  burn,  anri  ?ii\\  lay  fast  in- 
trenched in  his  lines  of  Beauport.  He  would  not  imperil 
all  Canada  to  save  a  few  hundred  farmhouses;  and  Wolfe 
was  as  far  as  ever  from  the  battle  that  he  coveted.  Hitherto, 
his  attacks  had  been  made  chiefly  below  the  town;  but, these 
liaving  failed,  he  now  changed  his  plan  and  renewed  on  a 
larger  scale  the  movements  begun  above  it  in  July.  "With 
every  fair  wind,  ships  and  transports  passed  the  batteries  of 
Quebec,  favored  by  a  hot  tire  from  Toint  Levi,  and  generally 
succeeded,  with  more  or  less  damage,  in  gaining  the  upper 
river.  A  fleet  of  flatboats  \,-as  also  sent  thither,  and  twelve 
hundred  troops  marched  overland  to  embark  in  them,  under 
Jirigadier  Murray.  Admiral  Holmes  took  command  of  the 
little  fleet  now  gathered  aliove  the  town,  and  operations  in 
that  quarter  were  systematically  resumed. 

To  oppose  ihem,  IJougainville  was  sent  from  tlie  camp  at 
lieduport  with  fifteen  hundred  men.  His  was  a  most  arduous 
and  exhausting  duty.  He  must  watch  the  shores  for  fifteen 
(.r  twenty  miles,  divide  his  force  into  detachments,  and  sub- 
ject himself  and  his  followers  to  tho  strain  of  incessant 
vigilance  ar.d  incessant  marching.  Mun-ay  made  a  descent 
at  I'ointe-aux-Trembles.  and  was  repulsed  with  loss.  He 
tried  a  second  time  at  another  place,  was  met  before  landing 
hy  a  bod;  of  ambushed  Canadians,  and  was  again  driven 
bark,  his  foremost  boats  full  of  dead  and  wounded.  A  thirH 
time  he  su(;ceeded,  landed  at  Deschambault,  and  burned  a 
large   building   filled  with   stores   and   all  the   spare  bag- 


i 


17591 


The  Heights  of  Abraham 


419 


page  of  the  French  regular  officers.  The  hh.w  was  «o 
alanuincr  that  I^Ioiitcalm  hasteneil  from  lieauix^rt  to  take 
commaml  iu  person;  but  when  he  arrived  the  English  were 

gone. 

Vaudreuil  nosv  saw  his   mistake  in  sending  the  I-rencli 
frigates  up  the  river  out   of  harm's  way.  an.l  withdrawing 
tlieir  crews  to  serve  the  Latteries  of  Quebec.     Had   these 
ships  been  there,  they  might  have  overpowered  those  of  the 
English  in  detail  as  they  passed  the  town.     .\n  attempt  was 
made  to   retrieve  the  blunder.     Tie   saQors  were   sent  to 
man  the  frigates  anew  and  atUek  zhe  s.iuadnm  of  Holmes. 
It  was  too  late.     ILdmes  was  aln^dy  too  strong  for  them, 
and  they  were  re.alle.l     Yet  th.    htii.ultieH  of  the  English 
still   seemed  insurmountable.     Dysentery  and   fever  broke 
out  in  their  camps,  the  number  of  their  effective  men  was 
greatly  reduced,  and  the  advancuig  season  told  them  that 
their  work  must  be  done  (piickly,  or  ni)t  done  at  all. 

On  the  other  side,  the  distress  of  the  French  grew  greater 
eN-ery  day.     Their  army  was  on    Hort  rations.     The  oiKjra- 
ti..ns  of  the  English  above  the  town  tilled  the  camp  of  Beau- 
nort  with  dismav,  for  troops  and  Canadian,  alike  dreaded 
the  cutting  off  of  their  supplies.     These  were  all  drawn  from 
the  districts  of  Three  Uivers  an.l   ^lontieal ;    and,  at  best, 
they  were  in  great  danger,  since  when  brought  down  in  boats 
at  night  thev  were  apt  to  be  intercepted,  while  the  difficulty 
of  bringing 'them  by  latul  was  extreme,  through  the  scarcity 
of  cattre  and  horses.     Discipline  was  relaxed,  disorder  and 
T,illa-e  were  rife,  and  the  Can.ndians  deserted  s.)  fast,  that 
towanls  the  end  of  Aug^ist  Uvo  hun.lred  of  them,  it  is  said, 
would  sometimes  go  off  in  one  night.    Early  in  the  month 
the  disheartening  news  came  <.f  the  los.  ,.f  Ticonderoga  an.l 
Cn.wu  Fomt.  the  retreat  of  F,ourlama.p.e,  the  fall  ..f  ^lagara, 


420  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1759 

ami  the  expected  advaiiw  of  Ainlicist  on  Montrt'al.  It  was 
tluMi  that  Ti«5vis  was  despatched  to  the  scene  of  daiij^er ; 
and  Quebec  was  doplorahly  weakened  hy  his  absence. 
About  this  time  the  Lower  Town  was  a<,'ain  set  on  fire 
by  the  English  liatteries,  and  a  humbed  and  sixty-seven 
houses  were  burned  m  a  nij^ht.  In  the  front  of  the  rjtjK'r 
Town  nearly  every  building  was  a  ruin.  At  the  (leneral 
Hospital,  wliich  was  remote  enough  to  be  safe  from  the 
bond»urdment,  every  barn,  shed,  and  garret,  and  even  the 
chapel  itself,  were  crowdetl  with  sick  and  wounded,  with 
women  and  children  from  the  town,  and  the  nuns  of  the 
Ursulines  and  the  Hotel-Dieu,  driven  thither  for  refuge. 
Bishop  Pontl)iiand,  though  sufTering  from  a  mortal  disease, 
came  almost  daily  to  visit  and  console  them  from  his 
lodging  in  the  house  of  the  cure  at  (Jharlesbourg. 

Towards  the  en<l  of  August  the  sky  brightened  again.  It 
became  known  that  Amherst  was  not  moving  on  Montreal, 
and  Bourlamaque  wrote  that  his  ])osition  at  Isle-aux-Noix 
was  impregnable.  On  the  twenty-seventh  a  deserter  from 
Wolfe's  army  brought  the  welcome  assurance  that  the  in- 
vaders despaired  of  success,  and  would  soon  sail  for  home ; 
while  there  were  movements  in  the  English  camps  hi"'  lieet 
that  seemed  to  conJirm  ^\  hat  he  .said.  Vaudreuil  breathed 
more  freely,  and  renewed  hope  and  confidence  visited  'he 
army  of  Beauport. 

Meanwhile  a  deep  cloud  fell  on  the  P^nglish.  Since  the 
siege  began,  Wolfe  had  passed  with  ceaseless  energy  from 
camp  to  camp,  animating  the  troops,  observing  everjlhing, 
and  directing  eveiything;  but  now  the  pale  face  and  tall 
lean  form  were  seen  no  more,  and  the  rumor  spread  that  the 
general  was  dangerously  ill.  He  had  in  fact  been  seized  by 
an  access  of  the  disease  tliat  had  tortured  him  for  some 


TKf.  Heijrhts  of  Abraham 


1759J 

time  imM  ;  af,.l  ffViT  had  fullovve.l.     His  .luailerH  were  at  a 
French  farinh..use  in  the  camp  at  Montmcrenci;  ami  here, 
as  he  lay  in  an  upiH-r  chamber,  helpless  in  hcl,  his  singular 
an.l   most   unmililarv    features   ha-«aril   with   disease   and 
.Iravvn  with  pain.  n..  man  coul.l  less  have  looked  the  hero. 
Hut  as  the  needle,  llu.uKh  <iuiverinjr,  p<.inls  always  to  the 
pole,  so,  through  torment  and  languor  and  the  heats  of  fever, 
the  niind  of  Wolfe  dwelt  on  the  capture  of  guebec.     His 
illness,  which  began  before  the  tweniieth  of  August,  had  so 
far  subsided  on    the  twenty-tiflh  that  K.iox  wrote  in   his 
Diarv  of  that  dav :  "His  Excellency  (Jeneral  Wolfe  is  on 
the  recovery,  to  the  inconceivable  j..y  of  the  whule  ar:,.y.' 
On  the  twJntv-uinth  he  was  able  to  write  or  dictate  a  letter 
to  the  three  briga.Uers,  :M,.nckton,  Townshend.  and  Mu  ray  : 
"  That  the  public  service  i>  ay  ni)t  suffer  by  the  -■  .-Ma'      in- 
disposition, he  begs  the  brigadiers  will  meet  an     ■.  i.ult 
together  for  the  public  utility  and  advantage,  and  consider  of 
the  best  method  to  attack  the  enemy."     The  letter  then  pro- 
poses three  plans,  all  bold  to  au<lacity.     The  first  was  to 
send  a  part  of  the  army  to  ford  the  IMontmorenci  eight  or 
nine  miles  above  its  mouth,  march  through  the  forest,  and 
fall  on  the  reai  of  the  French  at  lieauport,  while  the  rest 
landed  and  attacked  them  in  front.    The  second  was  to  cross 
the  ford  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mop.tmorenci  and  march  along 
the  strand,  under  the   French   intrenchments.  till  a  place 
could  be  found  where  the  troops  might  climb  the  he.trhts. 
The  third  was  to  make  a  general  attack  from  boats  at  the 
Beauport   Hats.     Wolfe   had  before  entertained   two   other 
plans,  one  of  which  was  to  scale  the  heights  at  St.  Michd. 
about  a  league  above  Quebec  ;  but  thi.  he  had  abandoned  on 
learning  that  the  French  were  there  in  force  to  receive  him. 
The  other  was  to  storm  the  Lower  Town;  but  tins  al-.  he 


i 


422  'I  he  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

liiid  al'fiiKldiuMl,  Ix'cauau  the  r|']>fr  Town,  which  eoniiiiaiKled 
il,  wouM  still  ivuiaiii  iiiiure-'SiltK'. 

The  hi'i^ailiors  met  111  cimsultatitui,  rojeoled  the  three 
j4 ms  jinijMKSt'd  in  the  letter,  and  advi;<ed  that  an  attein]il 
shiiuld  be  made  to  gain  a  footing  on  the  nortli  shure  al)ovo 
(lie  town,  place  the  army  lielwcen  Montcalm  anil  his  Imsse  of 
supply,  and  so  force  him  to  fight  or  surn'mlcr.  The  s(;iiemf 
was  .similar  to  that  of  the  heights  of  St.  Michel.  It  seemed 
desjKjrate,  but  so  did  all  the  rest;  and  if  by  chance  it  should 
succeed,  the  gain  was  far  greater  than  could  follow  any 
success  below  the  tttwn.     Wolfe  embraced  it  at  once. 

Not  that  he  saw  nuich  liojie  in  it.  He  knew  that  every 
chance  was  against  him.  Disappointment  in  the  past  and 
gloom  in  the  future,  tlie  pain  and  exhaustion  of  dist'ase,  toils, 
and  aii.\ieties  "too  greai,  in  the  Wdnls  of  llurke,  "  to  be  sup- 
ported l»y  a  delicate  constitution,  and  a  liody  unetpial  to  the 
vigorouf'  and  enterprising  soul  that  it  lodgeil,"  threw  him  at 
times  into  deep  dejection.  IJy  those  intimate  with  him  he 
was  heard  to  say  that  he  would  not  go  back  defeated,  "  to  be 
exposed  to  the  censure  and  reproach  of  an  ignorant  popu- 
lace." In  other  moods  he  felt  that  lie  ought  not  to  sacrifice 
what  was  left  of  his  diminished  army  in  vain  ctadlict  with 
hopeless  obstacles.  Ihit  his  final  resolve  «)nce  taken,  ho 
would  not  swerve  from  it.  His  fear  was  that  he  ni'ght  not 
be  able  to  lead  his  troops  in  person.  "  I  know  perfectly  well 
you  cannot  cure  ine,"  he  said  to  his  jihysician ;  "  but  i)ray 
make  me  up  so  that  I  may  be  without  jiain  for  a  few  days, 
and  able  to  do  my  duty :  that  is  all  I  want." 

In  a  despatch  which  Wolfe  had  written  to  Pitt,  Admiral 
Saunders  conceived  that  he  liad  ascribed  to  the  fleet  more 
than  its  just  sluue  in  the  disaster  at  ^lontmorenci ;  and  he 
sent  him  a  biter  on  the  sul>ject.     Majjr  Barr(5  kept  it  from 


,„9]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  423 

Z'  invali.l  im  the  fever  Im.l  abaUMl.     Wolfe  then  wr..te  a 
loMK  answer.  Nvhuh  reveals  his  mixed  dejection  and  reso  ye. 
He  alhrn.s  the  ji.sticc  ..f  what  Saunders  had  said,  but  adds: 
..  I  shall  leave  out  that  i-art  of  my  letter  to  Mr.  Pitt  whu-h 
v„u  object  to.     I  am  sensible  of  n.y  own  err..rs  in  the  cov.n^e 
of  the  campaign,  see  clearly  wherein  I  have  been  deti.  .ent 
and  think  a  little  more  or  less  blan.e  t<.  a  n.an  that  must 
necessarily  be  ruined,  of  little  or  n.,  conse.iuence.     I  take 
the  blame   of   that   unh.cky   day   entirely   uinm   n.y   own 
shoulders,  and  1  exi^'ct  t<.  suffer  for  it."     Then.  speaku,«  of 
the  new  project  of  an  attack  above  (^uelK^c,  he  says  despon- 
din.dv  •  "  Mv  ill  state  of  health  prevents  me  from  e.xecutms 
mymvn  plan  ;  it  is  ..f  too  desperate  a  nature  to  order  others 
to  execute."     He  proceeds,  however,  to  give  direeti..ns  for  it. 
"  It  will  be  necessarv  to  run  as  many  small  craft  as  iK)ssiblc 
alH.ve  the  town,  with  provisions  for  six  weeks,  for  aUmt  hve 
thousand,  which  is  all  1  intend  to  take.     My  letters.  I  hope, 
will  be  ready  to-morn.w,  and  I  hope  I  shall  have  strength  to 
lead  these  men  to  wherever  we  can  find  the  enemy." 

On  the  next  dav.  the  last  of  August,  he  was  able  for  the 
first  time  to  leave  the  house.     It  was  on  this  same  day  that 
he  wrote  his  last  letter  to  his  mother:  "  My  writing  to  you 
will  convince  you  that  n..  personal  evils  worse  than  defeats 
and  disapiH.intments  have  fallen  upon  me.     The  enemy  puts 
nothing  to  risk,  and  I  can't  in  conscience  put  the  whole  army 
to  ri.k.     Mv  at.tagonist  has  wisely  shut  himself  up  ni  inac- 
ees.ible  int'renchments.  so  that  1  can't  get  at  hin.  without 
shilling  a  torrent  of  blood,  and  that  perhaps  to  little  purpose. 
The  Marquis  de  Montcalm  is  at  the  head  of  a  great  nund.er 
of  bad  soldiers,  and  I  am  at  the  head  of  a  small  number  of 
good  ones,  that  wish  for  nothing  so  nmch  as  to  fight  hun ; 
but  the  wary  old  fellow  avoids  an  action,  doubtful  of  the 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No,  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


•-BM 

1^  Ilia 
It  1^ 


1.4 


2.5 
2.2 

ZO 
1.8 


1.6 


A  /APPLIED  IIVMGE     Inc 

^^  1653   Eobl    **a^'-'   SItee! 

S^S  l^oches'e',    Ne*   Yofk         14609        USA 

'.as  ('16)   482  -  OJOO  -  Phone 

I^  (716)  288  -  M89  -  Fa« 


m 


424  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [,„9 

behaviur  of  his  army.     I'eople  must  be  of  the  profession  to 
inulerstaiid  tlie  dismlvantages  and  dilliculties  we  laU.r  un.lcr 
arising  from  tlie  uncommou  natural  strengtli  of  the  country  " 
On  tlie  second  of  September  a  vessel  was  sent  to  England 
with  his  last  despatch  to  Pitt.     It  begins  thus:  "The  ob- 
stacles we  have  met  with  in  the  oi-eratlons  of  the  campai-M. 
are  much  gieater  than  we  ha<l  reason  to  expect  or  couhl  foL 
soe;  ,„.t  so  much  from  the  number  of  the  enemy  (thou-di 
superior  to  us)  as  from  the  natural  strength  of  the  count.y 
which  the  Manpiis  of  .Montcalm  seems  wisely  to  depend' 
upon.     When  [  learned  that  succors  of  all  kuuls  had  been 
thrown  into  Quebec;  that  five  battalions  of  regular  troops 
completed  from  the  best  inhabitants  of  the  country,  some  of 
the  troops  of  the  colony,  and  every  Canadian  that  was  able 
to  bear  arms,  besides  several  nations  of  savages,  had  taken 
the  field  in  a  very  advantageous  situation,— I  could  not 
flatter  myself  that  I  should  be  able  to  reduce  the  jdace.     I 
sought,  however,  an  occasion  to  attack  their  armv,  knowing 
well  that  witli  these  troops  I  was  able  to  fight,  and  hoping 
that  a  victory  miglit  disjierse  them."     Then,  after  recounting 
the  events  of  the  campaign  with  admirable  clearness,  he  con- 
tinues: "  I  found  myself  so  ill,  and  am  still  so  weak,  that  I 
begged  the  general  officers  to  consult  together  for  the  general 
utility.     They  are  all  of  opinit)n  that,  as  more  ships  and  pro- 
visions are  now  got  above  the  town,  they  should  try,  by  con- 
veying up  a  corps  of  four  or  five  thousand  men  (which  is 
nearly  the  whole  strength  of  the  army  after  the  P.nnts  of 
Levi  and  Orleans  are  left  in  a  proper  state  of  defence)  to 
draw   the  enemy  from   their   present   situation   and   bring 
them  to  an  action.     I  have  acquiesced  in  the  proposal,  and 
we  are  jM-eparing  to  put  it  into  execution."     The  letter  ends 
thus  :  "  By  the  list  of  disabled  officers,  many  of  whom  are  of 


1759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  425 

rank,  you  may  perceive  that  the  army  is  much  weakened. 
15y  the  nature  of  the  river,  the  niost  formi«lable  part  of  this 
armament  is  dejtrived  of  the  power  of  acting ;  yet  we  have 
almost  the  wliole  force  of  Canada  to  oppose.  In  this  situa- 
tion there  is  such  a  choice  of  ditticidties  that  I  own  myself 
at  a  loss  how  to  deterujine.  The  affairs  of  Great  Britain,  I 
know,  require  the  most  vigorous  measures  ;  but  the  courage 
of  a  handful  of  brave  troops  should  be  exerted  only  when 
there  is  some  hope  of  a  favoralde  event ;  however,  you  may 
be  assured  that  the  small  part  of  the  campaign  which  re- 
mains shall  be  employed,  as  far  as  I  am  able,  for  the  honor 
of  His  Majesty  and  the  interest  of  the  nation,  in  which  I  am 
sure  of  1  t'ing  well  seconded  by  the  admiral  and  by  the 
generals ;  happy  if  our  ett'orts  here  can  contribute  to  the  suc- 
cess of  His  Majesty's  arms  in  any  other  parts  of  America." 

Some  days  later,  he  wrote  to  the  Earl  of  Holderuesse: 
"The  Iklanpiis  of  Montcalm  has  a  numerous  body  of  armed 
men  (I  cannot  call  it  an  army),  and  the  strongest  country 
perhaps  in  the  world.  Our  fleet  blocks  up  the  river  above 
and  below  the  town,  but  can  give  no  manner  of  aid  in  an 
attack  up)U  the  Canadian  army.  We  are  now  here  [of 
Cap-Eouge]  with  about  thirty-six  hundred  men,  waiting  to 
attack  them  when  and  wherever  they  can  best  be  got  at.  I 
am  so  far  recovered  as  to  do  business ;  but  my  constitutiiju 
is  entirely  ruined,  without  the  consolation  of  doing  any  con- 
siderable service  to  the  state,  and  without  ai\y  prospect  of 
it."  He  liad  just  loarned,  through  the  letter  brought  from 
Amherst  by  Ensign  Hutchius,  that  he  could  expect  no  help 
from  that  cpiarter. 

Perhaps  he  was  as  near  despair  as  his  undaunted  nature 
was  capable  of  being.  In  his  present  state  of  body  and  mind 
he  was  a  hero  without  the  light  and  cheer  of  heroism.     He 


r 


m 


426  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  L'759 

tlattered  hiinaelf  with  110  illusions,  but  saw  the  worst  and 
faced  it  all.  lie  seems  to  have  been  entirely  without  excite- 
ment. Tlie  languor  of  disease,  the  tlesi)eration  of  the  chances, 
and  the  greatness  of  the  stake  may  have  wrought  to  tran- 
(luillize  him.  Ilis  energy  was  douhly  tasked:  to  bear  up 
his  own  sinking  frame,  and  to  acliieve  an  almost  hopeless 
feat  of  arms. 

Audacious  as  it  was,  his  plan  cannot  l>e  called  rash  if  we 
may  accept  the  statement  of  two  well-informed  writers  on 
the  Krencli  side.  They  say  that  on  the  tenth  of  September 
the  Knglisli  naval  commanders  lield  a  council  on  board  the 
iliigship,  in  which  it  was  resolved  tliat  the  lateness  of  the 
season  re<piired  the  lleet  to  leave  Quebec  witliout  delay. 
They  say  furtlier  that  Wolfe  then  went  to  the  admiral,  told 
him  that  he  had  found  a  [dace  where  the  heights  could  be 
scaled,  that  he  would  send  up  a  hundred  and  fifty  picked 
men  to  feel  the  way,  and  that  if  they  gained  a  lodgment  at 
tlie  toj),  the  other  troops  should  follow;  if,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  French  were  tliere  in  foice  to  o])pose  tliem,  he 
would  not  sacrifice  the  arm)-  in  a  hopeless  attempt,  but  em- 
bark them  for  himie,  consoled  by  tlie  thouglit  that  all  had 
been  done  that  man  could  do.  On  this,  concludes  the  story, 
the  admiral  and  his  officers  consented  to  wait  the  result. 

As  Wolfe  had  informed  Pitt,  his  army  was  greatly  weak- 
ened. Since  the  end  of  June  his  loss  in  killed  and  wounded 
was  more  than  eiglit  hundred  and  fifty,  including  two  colonels, 
two  majors,  nineteen  captains,  and  thirty-four  subalterns; 
and  to  these  were  to  be  added  a  greater  number  disabled  by 
disease. 

The  squadron  of  Admiral  Holmes  above  Quebec  had  now 
in(U-eased  to  twenty-two  vessels,  great  and  small.  One  of 
the  last  that  went  up  was  a  diminutive  schooner,  armed  with 


1759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  427 

a  few  swivels,  and  jocosely  named  the  "  Terror  of  France." 
She  sailed  by  the  town  in  broad  daylight,  the  French,  in- 
censed at  her  impudence,  blazing  at  her  from  all  their  bat- 
teries ;  but  she  passed  unharmed,  anchored  by  the  admiral's 
ship,  and  saluted  liim  triumphantly  with  her  swivels. 

Wolfe's  first  move  towards  executing  his  i)lan  was  tlie 
critical  one  of  evacuating  the  camj)  at  jMontmorenci.  This 
was  accomplished  on  the  third  of  September.  Montcalm 
sent  a  strong  force  to  fall  on  the  rear  of  the  retiring  Knglish. 
Monckton  saw  ihe  movement  from  Point  Levi,  endjurked 
two  battalions  in  the  boats  of  the  ileet,  and  made  a  feint  of 
landing  at  liwiuport.  ^lontcalm  recalled  his  troops  to  re- 
pulse the  threatened  attack ;  and  the  English  withdrew  from 
Alontmorenci  unmolested,  some  to  the  lV)int  of  Orleans, 
others  to  Point  Levi.  On  the  night  of  the  fourth  a  fleet  of 
flatboats  passed  above  the  town  with  the  baggage  and  stores. 
On  the  lifth,  Murray,  with  four  battalions,  marched  up  to 
the  River  Etechemin,  ami  forded  it  untler  a  hot  tire  from  the 
French  batteries  at  Sillery.  Monckton  aiul  Townshend  fol- 
lowed with  three  more  battalions,  and  the  united  force,  of 
about  thirty-six  hundred  men,  was  end)arked  on  board  the 
ships  of  Holmes,  where  Wolfe  joined  them  on  the  same 
evening. 

Tiiese  movements  of  the  English  filled  the  French  com- 
manders with  mingled  perplexity,  anxiety,  and  ho}>e.  A 
deserter  told  them  that  Admiral  Saunders  was  impatient  to 
be  gone.  Vaudreuil  grew  confident.  "  The  breaking  up  of 
the  camp  at  Montmorenci,"  he  says,  "  and  the  abandonment 
of  the  intrenchments  there,  the  reimbarkation  on  board  the 
vessels  above  Quebec  (jf  the  trcojis  wl.o  had  encamjied  on 
the  south  bank,  the  movements  of  these  vessels,  the  removal 
of  the  heaviest  pieces  of  artillery  from  the  batteries  of  Point 


i'  I 


428  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

Levi,  — these  and  the  lateness  of  the  season  all  combined  to 
announce  tlie  speedy  departure  of  the  fleet,  several  vessels 
of  which  had  even  sailed  down  the  river  already.  The  pris- 
oners and  the  deserters  who  daily  came  in  told  us  that  this 
was  the  common  report  in  their  army."  He  wrote  to  Bour- 
lamaipie  on  the  first  of  September:  "Everything  proves  that 
the  grand  design  of  the  English  has  failed." 

Yet  he  was  ceaselessly  watchful.     So  was  Montcalm  ;  and 
he,  too,  »>n  the  night  ol  the  second,  snatched  a  moment  to 
write  to  Bourlamaciue  from  his  headciuarters  in  the  stone 
house,  by  the  river  of   lieauport :  "  The  night  is  dark ;  it 
rains ;  our  troops  are  in  their  tents,  with  clothes  on,  ready  for 
an  alarm ;  I  in  my  boots ;  my  horses  saddled.     In  fact,  this 
is  my  usual  way.'  I  wish  you  were  here;  for  I  canm)t  be 
everywhere,  though  I  multiply  myself,  and  liave  not  taken 
oir  my  clothes  since  the  twenty-third  of  Jane."     On  the 
eleventh  of  September  he  wrote  his  last  letter  to  IVmrla- 
maque,  and  probably  the  last  that  his  i)en  ever  traced.     «  I 
am  overwhelmed  with  work,  and  sh.juld  often  lose  temper, 
like  you,  if  I  did  Mot  remember    hat  I  am  paid  by  Europe 
for  not  basing  it.     Nothing  new  sii    -  my  last.     1  give  the 
enemy  another  month,  or  something  less,  to  stay  here."     The 
more  sanguine  Vau.lreuil  would  hanUy  give  them  a  week. 

IVIeanwhile,  no  precaution  was  spured.  The  force  under 
Bougainville  above  Quebec  was  raised  to  three  thousand 
men?  He  was  ordered  to  watch  the  shore  as  far  as  Jacciues- 
Cartier,  and  follow  with  his  main  b-jdy  every  movement  of 
Holmes's  squadron.  There  was  little  fear  for  the  heights 
near  the  town ;  tliey  ^vere  thou,  'it  inaccessible.  Even  Mont- 
calm believed  them  safe,  and  nad  expressed  himself  t(.  that 
effect  some  time  before.  "We  need  not  suppose,"  he  wrote 
to    Vaudreuil,  "that   (be  enemy  have   wings;"  and   again. 


1759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  419 

si)eaking  of  the  very  place  where  "Wolfe  afterwarda  landed, 
"  I  swear  to  you  tliat  a  hundred  men  po.stetl  there  would  stop 
their  whole  army."  He  was  right  A  hundred  vatchful 
and  determined  men  could  have  helil  the  position  long 
enough  for  reinforcements  to  come  up. 

The  hundred  men  were  there,  (,'aptain  de  Yergor,  of  the 
colony  troops,  commanded  them,  and  reinfor  (>"'ents  were 
within  his  call ;  for  the  battalion  of  (Juienne  had  been  or- 
dered to  encamp  close  at  hand  en  tlie  Plains  of  Al>raham. 
Vergor's  post,  called  Anse  du  Foulon,  was  a  mile  and  a  lialf 
from  Quebec.  A  little  beyond  it,  liy  the  biiuk  of  the  cliffs, 
was  another  post,  called  Samos,  lield  In*  seventy  men  with 
four  cannon;  and,  beyond  tliis  again,  the  heights  of  Sillcrj' 
were  guarded  by  a  hundred  and  thiiiy  men,  also  with 
cannon.  These  wtie  outposts  of  Bougainville,  whose  head- 
quarters were  at  Cap- Rouge,  si.x  miles  above  Silleiy,  and 
whose  troops  were  in  contin\ial  movement  along  the  inter- 
vening shore.  Thus  all  was  vigilance ;  for  while  the  French 
were  strong  in  the  Impe  of  s])eedy  delivery,  they  felt  that 
there  was  no  safety  till  the  tents  of  the  invader  had  van- 
ished from  their  slujres  and  his  ships  from  their  river. 
"  What  we  knew,"  says  one  of  them,  "  of  the  character  of  M. 
Wolfe,  that  impetuous,  bold,  and  intrepid  warrior,  prepared 
us  for  a  last  attack  before  he  left  us." 

W^olfe  had  been  very  ill  on  the  evening  of  the  fo!irth. 
The  troops  knew  it,  and  their  spirits  sank  ;  but,  after  a  night 
of  torment,  he  grew  better,  and  was  soon  among  them  again, 
rekindling  their  ardor,  and  imparting  a  cheer  that  he  could 
not  share.  For  "  imself  he  had  no  pity  ;  but  when  he  heard 
of  the  illness  of  two  officers  in  one  of  tiie  ships,  he  sent 
them  a  message  of  warm  sympathy,  advised  them  to  return 
to   Point    Levi,  and   offered   them   his   own  barge   and   an 


430  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

escort.  TJiey  thanked  him,  hut  replied  that,  come  what 
might,  they  would  see  the  enterprise  to  an  end.  Anolher 
oiticer  remarked  in  his  hearing  that  one  of  the  invalids  had 
a  verj'  delicate  constitution.  "Don't  tell  me  of  constitution," 
said  Wolfe ;  "  he  has  g(K)d  spirit,  and  good  spirit  will  carry 
a  man  tlirough  everything."  An  immense  moral  force  bore 
up  his  own  frail  body  and  forced  it  to  its  work. 

Major  Ilt)bert  Stobo,  who,  five  years  before,  had  been 
given  as  a  hostage  to  the  French  at  the  capture  of  Fort 
Necessity,  arrived  about  this  time  in  a  vessel  from  Halifax. 
He  had  long  bee.i  a  prisoner  at  Quebec,  not  always  in  close 
custody,  and  had  used  his  opportunities  to  acquaint  himself 
with  the  neighborhood.  In  the  spring  of  this  year  he  and 
an  officer  of  rangers  named  Stevens  had  made  their  escape 
with  extraordinary  skill  and  daring ;  and  he  now  returned 
to  give  his  countrymen  the  benefit  of  his  local  knowledge. 
His  biographer  says  that  it  was  he  who  directed  Wolfe  in 
the  choice  of  a  landing-pkce.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Wolfe  in 
person  examined  the  riv^r  and  the  shores  as  far  as  Pointe- 
aux-Trembles ;  till  at  -•'  -  >nding  on  the  south  side  a 
little  above  Quebec,  f  ug  across  the  water  with  a 

telescope,  he  descried  ft  pam  tuat  ran  with  a  long  slope  up 
the  face  of  the  woody  precipice,  and  saw  at  the  top  a  cluster 
of  tents.  They  were  those  of  Vergor's  guard  at  the  Anse 
du  Foulon,  now  called  Wolfe's  Cove.  As  he  could  see  but 
ten  or  twelve  of  them,  he  thought  that  the  guard  could 
not  be  numerous,  and  might  be  overpowered.  His  hope 
would  have  been  stronger  if  he  had  known  that  Vergor  had 
once  been  tried  for  misconduct  and  cowardice  in  the  surren- 
der of  Beaus^jour,  and  saved  from  merited  disgrace  by  the 
friendship  of  Bigot  and  the  protection  of  Vaudreuil. 

The  morning  of  the  seventh  was  fair  and  warm,  and  the 


w 


»75»]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  431 

vessels  of  Huliues,  their  crowded  decks  gay  with  scarlet 
uniforms,  sailed  up  the  river  to  Cap-Rouge.  A  lively  scene 
awaited  theiu ;  for  here  were  the  headquarters  of  Bou- 
gainville, and  here  lay  his  principal  force,  while  the  rest 
watched  the  banks  above  and  below.  The  cove  into  which 
the  little  river  runs  was  guarded  by  floating  batteries;  the 
surrounding  shore  was  defended  by  breastworks;  and  a  large 
b.Hly  of  regulars,  militia,  and  mounted  Canadians  in  blue 
luiiforms  moved  to  and  fro,  with  restless  activitv,  on  the 
hills  behind.  When  the  vessels  came  to  anchor,  the  horse- 
men dismounted  and  formed  in  line  with  the  infantry  ;  then, 
with  loud  shouts,  the  whole  rushed  down  the  heights  to 
man  their  works  at  the  shore.  That  true  Briton,  Captain 
Knox,  looked  on  with  a  critical  eye  from  the  gangway  of  his 
ship,  and  wrote  that  night  in  his  Diary  that  they  had 
made  a  ridiculous  noise.  "  How  different ! "  he  exclaims, 
"  how  nobly  awful  and  expressive  of  true  valor  is  the  cus- 
tomary silence  of  the  British  troops ! " 

In  the  afternoon  the  ships  opened  fire,  while  the  troops 
entered  the  boats  and  rowed  up  and  down  as  if  looking 
for  a  landing-place.  It  was  but  a  feint  of  Wolfe  to  deceive 
Bougainville  as  to  his  real  design.  A  heavy  easterly  rain 
set  in  on  the  nfcxt  morning,  and  lasted  two  days  without 
respite.  All  operations  were  suspended,  and  the  men  suf- 
fered greatly  in  the  crowded  transports.  Half  of  them 
were  therefore  landed  on  the  south  shore,  where  they 
made  their  quarters  in  the  village  of  St.  Nicolas,  refreshed 
themselves,  and  dried  their  wet  clothing,  knapsacks,  and 
blankets. 

For  several  successive  days  the  squadron  of  Holmes  was 
allowed  to  drift  up  the  river  with  the  flood  tide  and  down 
with  the  ebb,  thus  passing  and   repassing   incessantly  be- 


'    a 


\\ 


432  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

tween  the  nt'ijfhborlioiKl  of  (Quebec  on  one  hand,  unil  a  ixdnt 
high  above  Cap-llouge  on  the  other;  while  Uougainville, 
perjtlexetl.  and  always  expecting  an  attack,  followed  the 
shij)8  to  and  fro  along  the  shore,  by  day  and  by  nigit,  till 
his  men  were  exhausted  with  ceaseless  forced  marches. 

At  last  the  time  for  action  came,  (^n  Wednesday,  the 
twelfth,  tlie  troops  at  St.  Nicolas  were  embarked  again, 
and  all  were  told  to  hold  themst-lves  in  readiness.  AVolfe, 
from  the  flagship  "  Sutherland,"  issued  liis  last  general 
orders.  "  The  enemy's  force  is  row  divided,  great  scarcity 
of  provisions  in  their  camp,  and  universal  discontent  among 
the  Canailians.  Our  troops  below  are  in  readiness  to  join 
us;  all  the  light  artillery  and  tools  are  ond)arked  at  the 
Point  of  liCvi ;  and  the  troops  will  land  where  the  French 
seem  least  to  expect  it.  The  first  body  that  gets  on  shore 
is  to  march  directly  to  the  enemy  and  drive  them  from 
any  little  ])ost  they  may  occupy ;  the  otlicers  must  be  care- 
ful that  the  huccecding  bodies  do  not  by  any  mistake  fire 
on  those  who  go  before  them.  Tlie  battalions  must  form 
on  the  upper  ground  with  expedition,  and  Ite  ready  to  charge 
whatever  presents  itself.  When  the  artillery  and  troops  are 
landed,  a  corps  will  ])e  left  to  secure  the  landing-place,  while 
the  rest  march  on  and  endeavor  to  bring  the  Canadians  and 
French  to  a  battle.  The  officers  and  men  will  remember 
what  their  country  exj^cts  from  them,  and  what  a  deter- 
mined lH)dy  of  soldiei-s  iniu-ed  to  war  is  capable  of  doing 
against  five  weak  French  battalittns  mingled  with  a  disor- 
derly peasantry." 

The  spirit  oi  the  army  answered  to  that  of  its  chief. 
The  troops  loved  and  admired  their  genenil,  trusted  their 
otlicers,  and  were  ready  for  any  attempt.  "  Xaj',  liow  could 
it  be  otherwise,"  <piaintly  asks  honest  Sergeant  John  Johnson, 


1759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  433 

i)f  the  iifty-eij,'hth  regiment, "  being  at  the  heels  of  gcntle- 
nieu  whose  whole  thirst,  e(iual  with  their  general,  was  for 
glory  ?  We  liinl  seen  tlienj  tried,  anil  always  found  them 
sterling.  We  knew  that  they  would  stand  by  us  to  the 
last  extremity." 

Wolfe  had  thirty-six  lumdred  men  and  oflicers  w^ith  him 
on  board  the  vessels  of  Holmes;  and  he  now  sent  orders 
to  Colonel  Burton  at  Point  Levi  to  bring  to  his  aid  all  who 
coiihl  be  spared  from  that  place  and  the  Point  of  Orl'jana. 
They  were  to  march  along  the  south  bank,  after  nightfall, 
and  wait  further  orders  at  a  designated  spot  convenient  for 
embarkation.  Their  number  was  alH>ut  twelve  hundred,  so 
tliat  the  entire  force  destined  for  the  enterprise  was  at  the 
utmost  forty-eight  hundred.  With  these,  Wolfe  meant  to 
climb  the  heights  of  Abrauam  in  the  teeth  of  an  enemy 
who,  though  much  reduced,  were  still  twice  as  numerous 
as  their  assailants. 

Admiral  Saunders  lay  with  the  main  fleet  in  the  Basin  of 
Quebec.  This  excellent  officer,  what  vcr  may  have  lx;en  his 
views  as  to  the  necessity  of  a  !«i)eedy  dej)arture.  aided  Wolfe 
to  the  last  with  unfailing  ener  »  and  zen'  It  v  s  agreed  1)6- 
tween  them  that  whik-  the  j,  aeral  maie  tin 
admiral  should  engage  Montcalm's  attention 
one.  As  night  approached,  the  fleet  raiigou  - 
Beauport  shore;  the  boats  were  lowt'red 
sailors,  marines,  and  the  few  troops  tluit  ha 
hind ;  while  ship  signalled  to  ship,  cannon  tlasi 
dered,  and  shot  ploughed  the  beach,  as  if  to  -ar  a  way 
for  assailants  to  land.  In  the  gloom  of  the  ling  the 
effect  was  imjwsing.  Montcalm,  who  thojight  'iat  ihe 
movements  of  the  Knglish  above  the  town  were  on  ^eiut, 
that  their  main  force  was  .still  below  it,  and  that  tU  .=         -l 

28 


i  attack,  the 
a  pretended 

I  ab'ii,    Ihf 

'  '■    !   wilh 

eft  l«- 

iiid  thun- 


i 


434  The  Struggle  lor  a  Continent  [i7» 

attack  wiiulil  Iw  inaile  tlu'iv,  was  completely  (K'ceiveil,  ami 
inassetl  his  troops  iii  front  of  lk'a«jK»rt  l  >  repel  the  exi>ecte(l 
landing.  Hut  while  in  tiie  ileet  of  Sauiulers  all  was  uproar 
and  ostentatious  menace,  the  dan^jer  was  ten  miles  away, 
where  the  siiuadron  t)f  Holmes  lay  tranouil  ami  silent  at  its 
anchorage  oil'  Cap-IJoujje. 

It  was  less  tranquil  than  it  seemed.  AV  on  hoard  knew 
that  a  blow  would  he  struck  that  night,  thouj,'h  only  a  few 
hij^h  otiicers  knew  where.  Colonel  Howe,  of  the  light 
infantry,  called  for  volunteers  to  lead  the  unknown  and  des- 
perate venture,  promising,  in  the  words  of  one  of  them, "  that 
if  any  of  us  survived  we  might  depend  on  being  recom- 
mended to  the  genemL"  As  many  as  were  wanted  —  twenty- 
four  in  all  —  soon  came  forward.  Thirty  large  bateaux  and 
some  boats  belonging  to  the  squadron  lay  moored  alongside 
the  vessels;  and  late  in  the  evi  ning  the  troops  were  ordered 
into  them,  the  twenty-four  volunteers  taking  their  place  in 
the  foremcjst.  They  held  in  all  about  seventeen  hundred 
men.     The  rest  remained  on  board. 

Bougainville  could  discern  the  movement,  and  misjudged 
it,  thinking  that  he  himself  was  to  be  attacked.  The  tide 
was  still  flowing  ;  and,  the  better  to  deceive  him,  the  vesse'" 
and  boats  were  allowed  to  drift  upward  with  it  for  a  little 
distance,  as  if  to  land  above  Cap-Rouge. 

The  day  had  been  fortunate  for  Wolfe.  Two  deserters 
came  from  the  camp  of  Bougainville  with  intelligence  that, 
at  ebb  tide  on  the  next  night,  he  was  to  send  down  a  convoy 
of  provisions  to  Montcalm.  The  necessities  of  the  camj)  at 
Beauport,  and  the  difficulties  of  transportation  by  land,  had 
before  compelled  the  French  to  resort  to  this  perilous  means 
of  conveying  supplies ;  and  their  boats,  drifting  in  darkness 
under  the  shadows  of  the  northern  shore,  had  commonly 


I7S9I  The  Heights  of  Abrahiun  J.S5 

passed  in  .safety.  Wolfe  .saw  at  <»tice  timl,  if  hia  own  lM>at8 
went  tl«»wn  in  udvume  of  the  convoy,  ho  could  turn  the  in- 
l»'Ili}?ence  of  the  deserters  to  r<mhI  account. 

He  was  still  on  board  the  "Sutherland."  Every  prepara- 
tion was  made,  and  every  onler  given  ;  it  only  remained  to 
wait  the  turninp  oi  the  tide.  Seated  with  him  in  the  cabin 
was  the  com^  "  of   the  sloop-of-war  "  I'orcupinc,"  his 

former  schi^-  '  ,  */,  John  Jerv is,  afterwards  Karl  St.  Vin- 
cent. Wolfe  I  a  him  that  he  cxiH>cted  to  die  in  the  battle 
of  the  ne.Kt  day  ;  and  taking  from  his  hta^nn  a  miniature  of 
Miss  I^)Wther,his  l»etrothed,  he  gave  it  to  him  with  a  retiuest 
that  he  would  return  it  to  her  if  the  presentiment  should 

prove  true. 

Towards  two  o'clock  the  tide  began  to  ebb,  and  a  fresh 
wind  blew  down  the  river.  Two  lanterns  were  raised  into 
the  maintop  shrouds  of  the  «  Sutherland."  It  was  the  ap- 
pointed signal ;  the  boats  cast  off  and  fell  down  with  the 
current,  those  of  the  light  infantry  leading  the  way.  The 
vessels  with  the  rest  of  the  troops  had  orders  to  follow  a 
little  later. 

To  look  for  a  moment  at  the  chances  on  which  this  bold 
adventure  hung.  First,  the  deserters  told  Wolfe  that  pro- 
vision-boats were  ordered  to  go  down  to  Quebec  that  night ; 
secondly,  Bougainville  countermanded  them;  thirdly,  the 
gentries  posted  along  the  heights  were  told  of  the  onk-i-,  but 
not  of  the  countermand ;  fourthly,  Vergor  at  the  Aiise  du 
Foulon  had  permitted  most  of  his  men,  chiefly  Canadians 
from  Lorette,  to  go  home  for  a  time  and  work  at  their  har- 
vesting, on  condition,  it  is  said,  that  they  should  afterwards 
work  in  a  neighboring  field  of  his  own ;  fifthly,  he  kept  care- 
less watch,  and  went  quietly  to  bed ;  sixthly,  the  battalion 
of  Guienne,  ordered  to  take  post  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham, 


t 


8 

s 

t 

i 


li 


■ 


436  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1759 

had,  for  reasons  iinexplaiiitHl,  remained  eucaniped  by  the  St. 
Cliarles ;  and  lastly,  when  IJougaiuville  saw  Holmes's  vessels 
drift  down  the  stream,  he  did  not  tax  his  weary  troops  to 
follow  them,  thinking  that  they  would  return  as  usual  with 
the  flood  tide.  lUit  for  these  conspiring  circumstances  New 
France  might  have  lived  a  little  longer,  and  the  fruitless 
heroism  of  Wolfe  would  have  passed,  with  countless  otlier 
heroisms,  into  olilivion. 

For  full  two  liours  the  procession  of  boats,  borne  on  the 
current,  steered  silently  down  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  stars 
were  visilile,  but  the  night  was  moonless  and  suftieiently 
dark.  The  general  was  in  one  of  the  foremost  boats,  and 
near  him  was  a  young  mid.shipman,  Jolin  liobison,  after- 
wards professMi'  of  natural  ]>hilo.M)phy  in  the  I'niversity  of 
Fdinburgh.  He  used  to  tell  in  his  later  life  how  Wolfe, 
with  a  low  voice,  repeated  tJray's  £lei/>j  in  a  Cuuntry 
Chnrchjjnrd  to  the  otticei-s  about  him.  rn)bably  it  was  to 
relieve  the  intense  strain  of  his  thoughts.  Among  the  rest 
was  the  veise  which  his  own  fate  was  soon  to  illustrate,  — 

"  The  paths  of  glory  lead  Imt  to  the  grave." 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  as  his  recital  ended,  "  I  would 
rather  have  written  those  lines  than  take  Quebec."  None 
were  there  to  tell  liim  that  the  hero  is  greater  than  the  j)oet. 

As  they  neared  their  destination,  the  tide  bore  them  in 
towards  the  shore,  and  the  nuglity  wall  of  rock  and  forest 
towered  in  darkness  on  their  left.  The  dead  stillness 
was  suddenly  broken  by  the  sharp  Qui  vice  !  of  a  French 
sentry,  invisible  in  the  thick  gloom.  France  !  answered  a 
Highland  othcer  of  Fraser's  regiment  from  one  of  tlie  boats 
of  the  light  infantry.  ]le  had  served  in  Holland,  and  s^wke 
Frendi  tluentlv. 


1759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  437 

A  quel  ngimcnt  i 

De  la  Jicine,  replied  the  Highlander.  He  knew  that  a 
part  of  that  corps  was  with  IJougainville.  The  sentry,  ex- 
pecting the  convoy  of  provisions,  was  satisfied,  and  did  not 
ask  for  the  password. 

Soon  after,  the  foremost  boats  were  passing  the  heights  of 
Samos,  when  another  sentry  challenged  tlieni,  and  they  could 
see  him  through  the  darkness  running  down  to  the  edge  of 
the  water,  within  range  of  a  pistol-shot.  In  answer  to  Iiis 
questions,  the  same  otlicer  replied,  ui  French :  "  I'l-ovision- 
boats.  Don't  make  a  noise  ;  the  English  will  hear  us."  In 
fact,  the  sloop-of-war  "  liunter  "  was  anchored  in  the  stream 
not  far  off.  This  time,  again,  the  sentry  let  them  pass.  In 
a  few  moments  they  rounded  the  headland  above  the  Anse 
du  Foulon.  There  was  no  sentry  there.  The  strong  current 
swept  the  boats  of  the  light  infantry  a  little  beh)W  the  in- 
tended landing-place.  Tliey  disembarked  on  a  narrow  strand 
at  the  foot  of  heights  as  steep  as  a  hill  covered  with  trees 
can  be.  The  twenty-four  volunteers  led  the  way,  climbing 
with  what  silence  they  might,  closely  followed  by  a  much 
larger  body.  When  they  reached  the  top  they  saw  in  the 
dim  liglit  a  cluster  of  tents  at  a  short  distance,  and  imme- 
diately made  a  dash  at  them.  Vergor  leay)ed  from  bed  and 
tried  to  run  off,  but  was  shot  in  the  heel  and  captured.  His 
men,  taken  by  surprise,  made  little  resistance.  One  or  two 
were  caught,  and  the  rest  fled. 

The  main  body  of  troops  waited  in  tlieir  boats  by  the  edge 
of  the  strand.  The  heights  near  by  were  cleft  V)y  a  great 
ravine  clioked  with  forest  trees  ;  and  in  its  depths  ran  a  little 
brook  called  Euisseau  St.  Denis,  which,  swollen  by  the  late 
rains,  fell  plashing  in  tlie  stillness  over  a  rock.  Other  than 
this  no  Sound  could  reach  the  strained  ear  of  Wolfe  but 


ill 


I 


438  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [175& 

the  gurgle  of  Uie  tkle  ami  the  cautious  climbing  of  his  ad- 
vance-partios  as  they  mounted  the  steeps  at  some  little  dis- 
tance from  where  he  sat  listening.     At  length  from  the  to]> 
came  a  sound  of  musket-shots,  followed    by  loud  huzzas, 
and  lie  knew  that  his  men  were  masters  of  the  positioi- 
The  word  was  given;  the  troops  leaped  from  the  boats  and 
scaled  the  heights,  some  here,  some  there,  clutching  at  trees 
and  bushes,  their  muskets  slung  at  tlieir  1  acks.     Tradition 
still  points  out  the  place,  near  the  mouth  of  the  ravine,  where 
the  foremost  reached  the  top.     Wolfe  &aid  to  an  ofhcer  near 
him :  "  You  can  try  it,  but  1  don't  think  you  '11  get  up."     He 
himself,  however,  found  strength  to  drag  himself  up  with 
the   rest.     The   narrow   slanting  path   on  the    face  of  the 
heights  had  been  made  impassable  by  trenches  and  abattis; 
but  all  obstructions  were  soon  cleared  away,  and  then  the 
ascent  was  easy.     In  the  gray  of  the  morning  the  long  file 
of  red-coated  soldiers  moved  quickly  upward,  and  formed  in 
order  on  the  plateau  above. 

Before  many  of  them  had  reached  the  top,  cannon  were 
heard  dose  on\he  left.     It  was  the  battery  at  Samos  firing 
on  the  boats  in  the  rear  and  the  vessels  descending  from  Cap- 
Rouge.     A  party   was   sent   to   silence   it;  this   was   soon 
effected,  and  the  more  distant  battery  at  Sillery  was  next 
attacked  and  taken.     As  fast  as  the  boats  were  emptied  they 
returned  for  the  troops  left  on  board  the  vessels  and  for 
those  waiting  on  the  southern  shore  under  Colonel  Burton.  ^ 
The  day  broke  in  clouds  and  threatening  rain.     Wolfe's 
battalions  were  drawn  up  along  the   crest  of  the  heights. 
N(.  enemy  was  in  sight,  though  a  body  of  Canadians  had 
sallied  from  the  town  and  moved  along  the  strand  towards 
the  landing-place,  whence  they  were  (juickly   driven  back. 
He  had  achieved  the  most  critical  part  of  his  enterprise ; 


1759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  439 

yet  the  success  that  he  coveted  placet!  him  in  imminent 
(lunger.  On  one  side  was  the  garrison  of  (Juebec  and  the 
army  of  Beauport,  and  IJougainville  waa  on  the  other. 
Wolfe's  alternative  was  victtny  or  ruin ;  for  if  he  should  be 
overNvhelmed  by  a  combined  attack,  retreat  would  l)e  hope- 
less. His  feelings  no  man  can  know ;  but  it  would  be  safe 
to  say  that  hesitation  or  doubt  had  no  part  in  them. 

He  went  to  reconnoitre  the  ground,  and  soon  came  to  the 
Plains  of  Abraham,  so  called  from  Abraham  Martin,  a  pilot 
known  as  Maitre  Abraham,  who  had  owned  a  piece  of  land 
here  in  the  early  times  of  the  colony.  The  Plains  were  a 
tract  of  grass,  tolerably  level  in  most  parts,  patched  here  and 
there  with  cornfields,  studded  with  clumps  of  bushes,  and 
forming  a  part  of  the  high  plateau  at  the  eastern  end  of 
which  Quebec  stood.  On  the  south  it  was  bounded  by  the 
declivities  along  the  St.  Lawrence ;  on  the  north,  by  those 
along  the  St.  Charles,  or  rather  along  the  meadows  through 
which  that  lazy  stream  crawled  like  a  writhing  snake.  At 
the  place  that  Wolfe  chose  for  his  battle-field  the  plateau 
was  less  than  a  mile  wide. 

Thither  the  troops  advanced,  marched  by  files  till  they 
reached  the  ground,  and  then  wheeled  to  form  their  line  of 
battle,  which  stretched  across  the  plateau  and  faced  the  city. 
It  consisted  of  six  battalions  and  the  detached  grenadiers 
from  Louisbourg,  all  drawn  up  in  ranks  three  deep.  Its  right 
wing  was  near  the  brink  of  the  heights  along  the  St.  Law- 
rence;  but  the  left  could  not  reach  those  along  the  St. 
Charles.  On  this  side  a  wide  space  was  perforce  left  open, 
and  there  was  danger  of  being  outflanked.  To  prevent  this. 
Brigadier  Townshend  was  stationed  here  with  two  battalions, 
drawn  up  at  right  angles  w  f.h  the  rest,  and  fronting  the  St. 
Charles.     The  battalion  of  Webb's  regiment,  under  C*>lonel 


V 


i^ 


f  ^ 


I 


440  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

Burtou,  formed  the  reserve;  the  tliircl  battalion  of  Itoyai 
Americaus  was  left  to  guard  the  landing;  and  Howe's  light 
infantry  occupied  a  wood  far  in  the  rear.  Wolfe,  with 
Moncktou  and  Murray,  commanded  the  front  line,  on  which 
the  heavy  lighting  was  to  fall,  and  whicli,  when  all  the 
troops  had  arrived,  numbered  less  than  thirty-live  hundred 
men. 

Quebec  was  not  a  mile  distant,  but  they  could  not  see  it 
for  a  ridge  of  broken  ground  intervened,  called  P>uttes-a- 
Neveu,  about  six  hundred  paces  off.  The  Hr.st  division  of 
troops  had  scarcely  come  up  when,  about  six  o'clock,  this 
ridge  was  suddenly  thronged  with  white  uniforms.  It  was 
the  battalion  of  Guienne,  arrived  at  the  eleventh  hour  from 
its  camp  by  the  St.  Charles.  Some  time  after  there  was  hot 
firing  in  the  rear.  It  came  from  a  detachment  of  Bougain- 
ville's command  attacking  a  house  where  some  of  the  light 
infantry  were  posted.  The  assailants  were  repulsed,  and  the 
firuig  ceased.  Light  showers  fell  at  intervals,  besprinkling 
the  troops  as  they  stood  patiently  waiting  the  event. 

Montcalm  had  passed  a  troubled  night.  Through  all  the 
evening  the  cannon  bellowed  from  the  ships  of  Saunders, 
and  the  boats  of  the  fleet  hovered  in  the  dusk  off  the  lieau- 
port  shore,  threatening  every  moment  to  land.  Troops  lined 
the  intrenchments  till  day,  while  the  general  walked  the 
field  that  adjoined  his  headijuaiters  till  one  in  the  morning, 
accompanied  by  the  Chevalier  Johnstone  and  Colonel  Poula- 
riez.  J(»hnstone  says  that  he  was  in  great  agitation,  and  took 
no  rest  all  night.  At  daybreak  he  heard  the  sound  of  can- 
non above  the  town.  It  was  tlie  battery  at  Saraos  firing  on 
the  English  ships.  He  had  sent  an  otticer  to  the  qiianers  of 
Vaudreuil,  which  were  much  nearer  Quebec,  with  orders  to 
bring  him  word  at  once  should  anything  unusual  happen. 


1759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  44^ 

But  no  word  came,  and  about  six  o'clock  he  mounted  and 
rode  thither  with  Johnstone.  As  they  advancfd,  the  countiy 
beliind  the  town  opened  more  and  more  upon  their  sight ;  till 
at  length,  when  opposite  VaudreuiVs  house,  they  saw  across 
the  St.  Charles,  some  two  miles  away,  the  red  ranks  of  Brit- 
ish soldiers  on  vhe  heights  beyond. 

«  This  is  a  serious  business,"  Montcalm  said ;  and  sent  off 
Johnstone  at  mil  gallop  to  bring  up  the  troops  from  the 
centre  and  left  of  the  camp.  Those  of  the  right  were  in 
motion  n'  at'.y,  doubtless  by  tl:s  governor's  order.  Vau- 
dreuil  came  out  of  the  house.  Montcalm  stopped  for  a  few 
words  with  him ;  then  set  spurs  t.,  his  horse,  and  rode  over 
the  bridge  of  the  .St.  Charles  to  the  scene  of  danger.  He 
rode  with  a  fixed  look,  uttering  not  a  word. 

The  army  followed  in  such  order  as  it  might,  crossed  the 
bridge  in  hot  haste,  passed  under  the  northern  rampart  of 
Quebec,  entered  r.t  the  Palace  Gate,  and  pressed  on  in  head- 
long march  along  the  quaint  narrow  streets  of  the  warlike 
town:   troops   of   Indians   in  scalp-locks   and  war-paint,   a 
savage  glitter  in  theiv  deep-set  eyes ;  bands  of  Canadians 
whose  all  was  at  stake,  —  faith,  ccnmtry,  and  home;  the  col- 
ony regidars;    the  battalions  of  Old    France,  a  torrent   of 
white  uniforms  and  gleaming  bayonets,  La  Sarre,  Languedoc, 
RoussiUon,  Beam,  —  victors  of  Oswego,  William  Henry,  and 
Ticondoroga.     So  they  swept  on,  poured  out  upon  the  plain, 
some  V>y  the  gate        't.  Louis,  and  some  by  that  of  St.  John, 
and   hurried,  bre...   less,  to  where  the  banners  of  Guienne 
still  fluttered  on  the  ridge. 

Montcalm  was  amazed  at  what  he  saw.  He  had  expected 
a  detachment,  and  he  found  an  army.  Full  in  sight  before 
him  stretched  the  lines  of  Wolfe :  the  close  ranks  of  the 
English  infantry,  a  silent  wall  of  red,  and  the  wild  array  of 


, 


I; 


f 


It 


M, 


442  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1759 

the  Highlanders,  with  their  waving  tartans,  and  bagpiiies 
screaming  ddiauce.  Vaudreuil  had  not  come;  but  not  the 
less  was  felt  the  evil  of  a  divided  authority  and  tlie  jealousy 
of  the  rival  chiefs.  Montcalm  waited  long  for  the  forces 
he  had  ordered  to  join  him  from  the  left  wing  of  the  army. 
He  waited  in  vain.  It  is  said  that  the  governor  had  detained 
them,  lest  the  ¥A\g  sh  should  attack  the  Beauport  siiore. 
Even  if  they  did  so,  and  succeeded,  the  French  might  defy 
them,  could  they  but  put  Wolfe  to  rout  on  tlie  Plains  of 
Abraliam.  Neither  did  the  garrison  of  Quebec  come  to  the 
aid  of  Montcalm.  He  sent  to  Ramesay,  its  commander,  for 
twenty-five  field-pieces  whicli  were  on  the  Talace  battery. 
Ilamesay  would  give  him  only  three,  saying  that  he  wanted 
them  for  his  own  defence.  Tliere  were  orders  and  counter- 
orders  ;  misunderstanding,  haste,  delay,  TKjrplexity. 

Montcalm  and  his  chief  officers  held  a  council  of  war. 
It  is  said  that  he  and  they  alike  were  for  immediate  attack. 
His  enemies  declare  that  he  was  afraid  lest  Vaudreuil  should 
arrive  and  take  command ;  but  the  governor  was  not  a  man 
to  assume  responsibility  at  such  a  crisis.  Others  say  that 
his  impetuosity  overcame  his  better  judgment;  and  of  this 
charge  it  is  hard  to  acquit  him.  Bougainville  w«3  but  a 
few  miles  distant,  and  some  of  his  troops  were  mucli  nearer ; 
a  messenger  sent  by  way  of  Old  Lorette  could  have  reached 
him  in  an  hour  and  a  half  at  most,  and  a  combined  attack  in 
front  and  rear  might  have  been  concerted  with  him.  If, 
moreover,  Montcalm  could  have  come  to  an  understandmg 
with  Vaudreuil,  his  own  force  might  have  been  strengthened 
by  two  or  three  thousand  additional  men  from  the  town  and 
the  camp  of  Beauport ;  but  he  felt  that  there  was  no  time  to 
lose,  for  he  imagined  that  Wolfe  would  soon  be  reinforced, 
which  was   impossible,  and   he  believed  that  the   English 


1759]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  4^3 

were  fortifying  themselves,  which  was  no  less  an  error.  He 
has  been  blamed  not  only  for  fighting  too  soon,  but  for 
fighting  at  all.  In  this  he  could  not  choose.  Fight  he  must, 
for  Wolfe  was  now  in  a  position  to  cut  off  all  his  supplies. 
His  men  were  full  of  ardor,  and  he  resolved  to  attack  before 
their  ardor  cooled.  He  spoke  a  few  words  to  tliem  in  his 
keen,  vehement  way.  "  I  remember  very  well  how  he 
I'loked,"  one  of  the  Canadians,  then  a  boy  of  eighteen,  used 
to  say  in  his  old  age ;  "  he  rode  a  black  or  dark  bay  horse 
along  the  front  of  our  lines,  brandishing  his  sword,  as  if  to 
excite  us  to  do  our  duty.  He  wore  a  coat  with  wide  sleeves, 
which  fell  back  as  he  raised  his  arm,  and  showed  the  white 
linen  of  the  wristband." 

The  English  waited  the  result  with  a  composure  which, 
if  not  quite  real,  was  at  least  well  feigned.  The  three  field- 
piiices  sent  by  Ramesay  plied  them  with  canister-shot,  and 
fifteen  hundred  Canadians  and  Indians  fusilladed  them  in 
front  and  flank.  Over  all  the  plain,  from  behind  bushes  and 
knolls  and  the  edge  of  cornfields,  puffs  of  smoke  sprang  in- 
cessantly from  the  guns  of  these  hidden  marksmen.  Skir- 
mishers were  thrown  out  before  the  lines  to  hold  them  in 
check,  and  the  soldiers  were  ordered  to  lie  on  the  grass  to 
av  >id  the  shot.  The  firing  vis  liveliest  on  the  Eu;|lish  left, 
where  bands  of  sharpshooters  got  imder  the  edge  of  the  de- 
clivity, among  thickets,  and  behind  scattered  houses,  whence 
they  killed  and  wounded  a  considerable  number  oi  Towns- 
heud's  men.  The  light  infantry  were  called  up  from  the 
rear.  The  houses  were  taken  and  retaken,  and  one  or  more 
of  them  was  burned. 

Wolfe  was  everywhere.  How  cool  he  was,  and  why  his 
followers  loved  him,  is  shown  by  an  incident  that  hapi)ened 
in  the  course  of  tlie  morning.     One  of  his  c-iptains  was  shot 


.1^ 


1 1 


I 
[ 


1  « 


m 


I 


n 


f 

iL. 


444  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (1759 

tliroiij^h  the  lungs;  and  cm  recovering  consciousness  he  saw 
the  general  standing  at  his  side.  Wolfe  pressed  his  hand, 
told  hiui  not  to  despair,  praised  his  services,  promised  liini 
early  promotion,  and  sent  an  aide-de-camp  to  Monckton  to 
beg  that  otticer  to  keep  the  i)roinise  if  he  himself  should  fall. 
It  was  towards  ten  o'clock  when,  from  the  high  ground  on 
the  right  of  the  line,  Wolfe  saw  that  the  crisis  was  near. 
The  French  on  the  ridge  liad  '  rmed  themselves  into  tlnee 
bodies,  regulars  in  the  centre,  regulars  and  Canadians  on 
right  and  left.  Two  tield-pieces,  which  had  been  dragged 
up  the  heights  at  Anse  du  Foulon,  tired  on  them  with  gnijie- 
shot,  and  the  tr<K)ps,  rising  from  the  gi'ound,  prepared  to 
receive  them.  In  a  few  moments  more  they  were  in  motion. 
They  came  on  rapidly,  uttering  loud  sliouts,  and  tirijig  as 
soon  as  they  were  within  range.  Their  ranks,  ill  ordered  at 
the  best,  were  further  confu.^ed  by  a  nundter  of  Cauii'lians 
wlio  had  been  mixed  among  t!ie  regulai-s,  and  who,  a/fer 
hastily  firing,  threw  themselves  on  the  ground  to  reload. 
The  British  advanced  a  few  rods  ;  then  halted  and  stood  still. 
When  the  French  were  within  forty  paces  the  word  of  com- 
mand rang  out,  and  a  crash  of  nmsketry  answered  all 
along  the  line.  The  volley  was  delivered  with  remarkalde 
])reeision.  In  tlie  battixlions  of  the  centre,  which  had  suf- 
fered least  from  the  enemy's  bullets,  the  sinuiltaneous  explo- 
sion was  afterwards  said  by  French  ollicei-s  to  have  sounded 
like  a  cannon-shot.  Another  volley  followed,  and  then  a 
furious  clattering  fire  that  lasted  but  a  miiuite  or  two. 
When  the  smoke  rose,  a  miseralde  sight  was  revealed:  the 
ground  cumbered  with  deail  and  wounded,  tlie  advancing 
masses  stopi)ed  slioit  and  turned  into  a  frantic  mob,  shout- 
ing, cursing,  gesticulating.  The  order  was  given  to  charge. 
Then  over  the  tit'ld  rose  the   British  cheer,  mixed  with  the 


17591  The  Heights  of  Abraham  445 

fierce  yell  - .f  tlie  Highland  slogan.  Some  of  the  corps  pusheil 
forward  with  the  bayonet;  some  advanced  firing.  The  clans- 
men drew  their  broadswords  and  dashed  on,  keen  and  swift 
as  bloodhonnds.  At  the  English  right,  thongh  the  attacViiig 
ci.lunin  was  broken  to  pieces,  a  tire  was  still  kept  up,chietly, 
it  .seems,  by  shari»shooters  from  the  bushes  and  cornfields, 
where  they  had  lain  for  an  hour  or  more.  Here  Wolfe  him- 
self led  the  charge,  at  the  head  of  the  Lniisbourg  grenadiers. 
A  shot  shattered  his  wrist,  lie  wrapped  his  handkerchief 
about  it  and  kept  on. 
Another  shot  struck  him. 


^'^-^r 


JfM^.-- 


JJeiith  (/  jm/e 


and  he  still  advanced, 
when  a  third  lodged  in 
his  breast.  He  staggered 
and  sat  on  the  ground. 
Lieutenant  llrown,  of  the 
grenadiers,  one  llender- 
son,  a  vidunteer  in  the 
.same  conijiany,  and  a 
jirivate  soldier,  aided  by 
an  oHicer  of  artillery  who 
ran  to  join  them,  car- 
ried him  in  their  arms  to  th^^  rear.  He  begged  them  to 
lay  him  down.  They  did  so,  and  asked  if  he  would  have 
a  surgeon.  "There's  no  need,"  he  answered;  "it's  all 
over  with  me."  A  moment  after,  one  of  them  cried  out: 
«  They  run  ;  see  how  they  run  !  "  "  Who  run  ?  "  Wolfe  de- 
manded, like  a  man  roused  from  sleep.  "  The  enemy,  sir. 
Egad,  they  give  way  everywhere ! "  "  Go,  one  of  you,  to  Col- 
onel Burton,"  returned  the  dying  man ;  "  tell  him  to  march 
Webb's  regiment  down  to  Charles  Eiver,  to  cut  off  their 
retreat  from  the  bridge."    Then,  turning  on  his  side,  he  mur- 


. 


II 


I",; 


1  f 


t 


446  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (1759 

inureil,  "  Now,  God  lie  praised,  I  will  die  in  jii'ace  !"and  in  a 
few  niomeut.s  liis  gallant  soul  had  fled.' 

Montcalm,  still  on  horsehack,  was  borne  with  the  tide  of 
fugitives  towards  the  town.  As  he  approacilied  the  walls  a 
shot  jiassed  throtigh  his  body.  He  kej»t  his  seat ;  two  sol- 
diers supjiorted  him,  one  on  each  side,  and  led  his  horse 
through  the  St.  L<iuis  Cate.  On  the  oj»en  space  within, 
among  the  e.\cited  crowd,  were  several  women,  drawn,  no 
doubt,  by  eagerness  to  know  the  result  of  the  tight.  One  of 
them  recognized  him,  saw  the  streaming  blood,  and  shrieked, 
"0  mon  Dieu  /  mon  Dicu !  Ic  Marquis  est  tin'!"  "It's 
nothing,  it 's  nothing,"  replied  the  death-stricken  man ;  "  don't 
be  troid)led  for  me,  my  good  friends."  ("  Ce  n'ext  rim,  ce 
nest  rien ;  nc  vous  aJjUijc;  pas  pour  moi,  mes  bonnes  amies") 

[After  the  Fall  of  Quebec.  —  Vaudreuil  might  have  re- 
trieved the  disaster  and  made  it  impossible  for  the  British 
to  occupy  Quebec,  liut  a  panic  seized  the  French  and  a 
disorderly  retreat  occurred  to  Jaccpies  Cartier,  thirty  miles 
from  danger.  L^vis  was  summoned  from  Montreal  and  his 
arrival  at  once  restored  order  if  not  hope  anumg  the  broken 
ranks.  He  insisted  on  marcliing  to  the  relief  of  the  be- 
leaguered garrison,  but  scarcely  had  they  begun  their  march 
when  the  chilling  news  reached  them  that  Quebec  had 
capitidated. 

In  the  following  spring  I^vis  gathered  himself  for  a  last 

1  There  are  several  contemporary  versions  of  the  dying  words  of  Wolfe. 
The  report  of  Knox,  given  alrave,  is  by  far  the  best  attested.  Knox  says  that 
he  took  particular  jiains  at  the  time  lo  learn  them  accurately  from  those  who 
were  with  Wolfe  when  they  were  uttered. 

The  anecdote  of  Moiitealni  is  due  to  the  late  Hon.  Malcolm  Fraser,  of 
QueWc.  He  often  heard  it  in  his  youth  from  an  old  woman,  who,  when  a  girl, 
was  one  of  the  group  who  saw  the  wounded  general  led  by,  and  to  whom  the 
words  were  addressed. 


TiiK  Fall  ov  Montcalm. 


'M 


•:i 


is 

hi! 

•  <  ft 


i7eo|  The  Heights  of  Abraham  447 

mighty  efTort.  Murray  wlio  had  succeeiled  to  the  commanil 
of  the  Uiilish  troojis  was  ill  jircjiart'tl  fur  the  emergency. 
Tliree  courses  were  oi»en  to  him,  to  defend  himself  within 
Quebec,  to  fortify  hiu»self  outside  the  walls  on  the  liuttes-h- 
Neveu,  or  to  fight  I^vi.s  at  all  riska.  His  iin])etuo.sity  and 
inexperience  promiited  him  to  give  battle  with  three  thousand 
men,  muny  of  whom  hud  left  the  hospitals  of  their  own 
accord  in  their  eagerness  to  take  part  in  the  fray.  The  battle 
which  folL.wed  at  Sainte-Foy  was  disastrous  to  the  British, 
and  the  fate  ot'  Quel»ec  again  tremblec  "  'j  balance.  —  Ku.] 
Ii(5vis  followed  up  his  success,  p  '  le  elaborate  prei)ara- 
tions  for  an  extensive  siege  i>>  ••'Jigiug'  trenches  along 
the  stony  buck  of  the  Huttes-li-Neveu.  Every  day  the  Kng- 
lish  tire  grew  hotter;  till  at  last  nearly  a  hiuidred  and  fifty 
cannon  vomited  in»n  upon  them  from  the  walls  of  Quebec, 
and  May  was  well  advanced  before  they  could  plant  a  single 
gun  to  reply.  Their  vessels  had  landed  artillery  at  the  Anse 
du  Koulon ;  but  their  liest  hope  lay  in  the  .succors  they  daily 
expected  from  the  river  below.  In  the  autumn  Ldvis,  with 
A  view  to  his  intended  enterprise,  had  sent  a  request  to  Ver- 
sailles that  a  ship  laden  with  munitions  and  heavy  siege- 
guns  should  be  "^ent  from  France  in  time  to  meet  him  at 
(Quebec  in  April;  while  he  looked  also  for  another  ship, 
which  had  wintered  at  Gaspe,  and  which  therefore  might 
reach  him  as  soon  as  navigation  opened.  The  arrival  of 
these  vessels  would  have  made  the  f)osition  of  the  English 
doubly  critical ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  should  an  English 
squadron  appear  first,  L^vis  would  be  forced  to  raise  the 
siege.  Thus  each  side  watch-  i  >*?  river  with  an  anxiety 
that  grew  constantly  more  ilc'^e;  ■■ .  '.  :he  English  pres- 
ently descried  signals  along  lic  ^\i.-;v  ulii  'li  seemed  to  say 

»  Montcalm  and  Wt.      V       ii.,  C)i    X;    X. 


If  J 


" 

;  1 

1 

J 

f 

1 

ll! 


I' 


iM= 


448  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1760 

tliat  French  ships  were  moving  up  the  St.  LawTence.  Mean- 
time, while  doing  their  best  to  compass  each  other's  destruc- 
tion, neither  side  forgot  the  courtesies  of  war.  L^vis  heard 
tliat  Munay  liked  spruce-beer  for  his  table,  and  sent  him  a 
flag  of  truce  with  a  quantity  of  spruce-boughs  and  a  message 
of  compliment;  Murray  responded  with  a  Cheshire  cheese, 
and  Levis  rejoined  with  a  present  of  partridges. 

Bad  and  scanty  fare,  excessive  toil,  and  broken  sleep 
were  telling  ominously  on  the  strength  of  tlie  garrison  when, 
on  the  nintli  of  May,  Murray,  as  he  sat  pondering  over  the 
file  ut  his  (piarters  in  St.  Louis  Street,  was  inten-upted  by  an 
'  otlicer  who  came  to  tell  him  that  there  was  a  ship-of-war  in 
the  Basin  beating  up  towards  the  tinvn.  Murray  started 
from  Ids  revery,  and  directed  that  British  coloi'S  shoidd  be 
mised  immediately  on  Cajte  Diamond.  The  halyards  being 
out  of  order,  a  sailor  climbed  the  start"  and  drew  up  the  flag 
to  its  plice.  The  news  had  spread ;  men  and  officers,  divided 
between  ho|ie  and  fear,  crowded  to  the  rampart  by  tlio 
Chateau,  where  Durham  Terrace  now  overlooks  the  St.  Law- 
rence, and  every  eye  was  strained  on  the  approaching  ship, 
eager  to  see  wliether  she  would  show  the  red  flag  of  Eng- 
land or  the  white  one  of  France.  Slowly  her  colors  rose 
to  the  masthead  and  unfurled  to  the  wind  tlie  red  cross  of 
St.  (Jeorge.  It  was  the  British  frigate  "  T/nvestofTe."  Slie 
ancliored  before  the  Lower  Town,  and  saluted  the  garrison 
with  twenty-one  guns.  "  The  gladness  of  the  troops,"  says 
Knox, "  is  not  to  be  expressed,  lioth  officers  and  soldiers 
mounted  tlie  ]»arapet  in  the  face  of  the  enemy  and  huzzaed 
with  their  hats  in  the  air  for  almost  an  hour.  The  garrison, 
the  enemy's  camp,  the  bay,  and  circumjacent  country  re- 
sounded with  our  shouts  and  the  thunder  of  our  artillery ; 
for  the  gunners  were  so  elated  that  they  did  nothing  but 


1760]  The  Heights  of  Abraham  449 

load  ami  tiro  for  a  considerable  time.  In  short,  the  general 
satis f act  i<jn  is  not  to  be  conceived,  except  by  a  jiersou  who 
had  suffered  the  extremities  of  a  siege,  and  been  destined, 
with  his  brave  friends  and  countrymen,  to  the  scalping- 
knives  of  a  faithless  con([ueror  and  his  barbarous  allies." 
The  "  Lowestoffe"  brought  news  tliat  a  British  squadron  was 
at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  would  reach  Quebec 
in  a  few  days. 

L(5vis,  hi  ignorance  of  this,  still  clung  to  the  hope  that 
French  ships  would  arrive  strong  enough  to  ovr«-power  the 
unwelcome  stranger.  His  guns,  being  at  last  in  position, 
presently  opened  tire  upon  a  wall  that  was  not  built  to  bear 
tlie  brunt  of  heavy  shot ;  but  an  artillery  better  and  more 
numerous  than  his  own  almost  silenced  them,  and  his  gun- 
ners were  harassed  by  repeated  sallies.  The  besiegers  had 
now  no  real  chance  of  success  unless  they  could  carry  the 
place  by  storm,  to  which  end  they  had  provided  abundant 
scaling-ladders  as  well  as  petards  to  burst  in  the  gates. 
They  made,  however,  no  attempt  to  use  them.  A  week 
passed,  when,  on  the  evening  of  the  fifteenth,  the  ship  of 
the  line  "  Vanguard "  and  the  frigate  "  Diana "  sailed  into 
tlie  harbor  ;  and  on  the  next  morning  the  "  Diana  "  and  the 
"  Lowestoffe  "  passed  the  town  to  attack  the  French  vessels 
in  the  river  above.  These  were  six  in  all,  —  two  frigates, 
two  smaller  armed  ships,  and  two  schooners ;  the  whole 
under  command  of  the  gallant  Vauquelin.  He  did  not  belie 
his  reputation ;  fought  his  ship  with  persistent  bravery  till 
his  ammunition  was  sjient,  refused  even  then  to  strike  his 
flag,  and  being  made  prisoner,  was  treated  by  his  captors 
with  distinguished  honor.  The  other  vessels  made  little 
or  no  resistance.  One  of  them  threw  her  guns  overboard 
and  escaped ;  the  rest  ran  ashore  and  were  burned. 

29 


if' 


"I: 
!  I; 


t 

t 

i 

J 


:t 


j; 


450  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1760 

The  destruction  of  liis  vessels  was  a  (lealh-l)lo\v  to  the 
hopes  of  I^vis,  for  they  contained  liis  stores  of  food  and 
ainuiunition.  lie  had  passed  the  preceding  night  in  great 
agitation ;  and  when  the  cannonade  on  the  river  ceasetl,  he 
hastened  to  raise  the  siege.  In  tlie  evening  deserters  from 
liis  camp  told  Murray  that  the  French  were  in  full  retreat ; 
on  which  all  the  English  batteries  oiKjned,  firing  at  random 
through  the  darkness,  and  sending  cannon-balls  en  ricochet, 
bowling  by  scores  together,  over  the  Plains  of  Abraliam  on 
the  heels  of  the  retiring  enem\.  Murray  marched  out  at 
dawn  of  day  to  fall  upon  their  rear;  but,  with  a  hundred 
and  fifty  cannon  bellowuig  behind  them,  they  had  made 
such  sjieed  that,  though  he  pushed  over  the  marsh  to  Old 
Lorette,  he  could  not  overtake  them;  they  had  already 
crossed  the  river  of  Cap-Iiouge.  Why,  with  numbers  still 
superior,  they  went  off  in  such  haste,  it  is  hard  to  say. 
They  left  behind  them  thirty-four  cannon  and  six  mortars, 
with  petards,  scaling-ladders,  tents,  ammunition,  baggage, 
inttv^nching  tools,  many  of  their  muskets,  and  all  their  sick 
and  wounded. 

The  effort  to  recover  Quebec  did  great  honor  to  the  en- 
terprise of  the  French ;  but  it  availed  them  nothing,  served 
only  to  waste  resources  that  seemed  already  at  the  lowest 
ebb,  and  gave  fresh  opportunity  of  plunder  to  Cadet  and  his 
crew,  who  failed  not  to  make  use  of  it. 


i 
I 


II  A.' 


17601 


British  Supremacy 


451 


BRITISH   SUPREMACY  1 


On  the  American  continent   the  war  was  ended,  and  the 
British  colonies  hreathed  for  a  space,  as  they  drifted  unwit- 
tingly towards  a  deadlier  strife.     They  had  learned  hard  and 
useful  lessons.     Their  mutual  jealousies  and  disputes,  the 
quarrels  of  their  governors  and  assemblies,  the  want  of  any 
general  military  organization,  and  the   absence,  in  most  of 
them,  of  military  habits,  joined  to  nanow  views  of  their  own 
interest,  had  unfitted  them  to  the  last  degree  for  carrying  on 
offensive  war.     Nor  were  the  British  troops  sent  for  their 
support  remarkable  in  the  beginning  for  good  discipline  or 
efficient  command.     When  hostilities  broke  out,  the  army  of 
Great  Britain  was  so  small  as  to  be  hardly  worth  the  name. 
A  new  one  had  to  be  created ;  and  thus  the  inexperienced 
Shirley  and  the  incompetent  Loudon,  with  the  futile  New- 
castle behind  them,  had,  tesides  their  own  incapacity,  the 
disadvantage  of  raw  troops  and  half-formed  officers;  while 
against  them  stood  an  enemy  who,  though  weak  in  numbers, 
was  strong  in  a  centralized   military  organization,   skilful 
leaders  armed  with   untrammelled  and  absolute  authority, 
practised  soldiers,  and  a  population  not  only  brave,  but  in 
good  part  inured  to  war. 

The  nature  of  the  country  was  another  cause  that  helped 
to  protract  the  contest.  "  Geography,"  says  Von  MoUke,  "  is 
three  fourths  of  military  science ; "  and  never  was  the  truth 

1  Montcalm  and  Wolfe,  Vol.  II.,  Cli.  XXX. 


452  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1760 

of  liis  words  more  fully  excini)lifie(i.  Canada  was  fortified 
with  vast  outworks  of  defence  in  the  savage  forests, 
marshes,  and  mountains  that  encompassed  her,  whore  the 
thoroughfares  were  streams  choked  with  fallen  trees  and 
obstructed  by  cataracts.  Never  was  the  problem  of  mov- 
ing troops,  encumbered  with  baggage  and  artillery,  a  nu)re 
difficult  one.  The  question  was  less  how  to  tight  the 
enemy  than  how  to  get  at  liim.  If  a  few  practicable  roads 
had  crossed  this  broad  tract  of  wilderness,  the  war  would 
have  been  shortened  and  its  character  chanaed. 

From  these  and  other  reasons,  the  numerical  superiority 
of  the  English  \  as  to  some  extent  made  unavailing.  This 
superiority,  though  exaggerated  by  French  writers,  was 
nevertheless  immense  if  estimated  by  the  number  of  men 
called  to  arms ;  but  only  a  part  of  these  could  be  employed 
in  offensive  operations.  The  rest  garrisoned  forts  and  block- 
houses and  guarded  the  far  reach  of  frontier  from  Nova 
Scotia  to  South  Carolina,  where  a  wily  enemy,  silent  and 
secret  as  fate,  choosing  their  own  time  and  place  of  attack, 
and  striking  unawares  at  every  unguarded  spot,  compelled 
thousands  of  men,  scattered  at  countless  points  of  defence, 
to  keep  unceasing  watch  against  a  few  hundred  savage 
marauders.  Full  half  the  levies  of  the  colonies,  and  many 
of  the  regulars,  were  used  in  service  of  this  kind. 

In  actual  encounters  the  advantage  of  numbers  was  often 
with  the  French,  through  the  comparative  ease  with  which 
they  could  concentrate  their  forces  at  a  given  point.  Of  the 
ten  considerable  sieges  or  battles  of  the  war,  five,  besides  the 
great  bushfight  in  which  the  Indians  defeated  Braddock, 
were  victories  for  France;  and  in  four  of  these  —  Oswego, 
Fort  William  Henry,  ]\Iontmorenci,  and  Ste.  Foy  —  the  odds 
were  greatly  on  her  side. 


1760]  Britivsh  Supremacy  453 

Yet  iu  this  the  most  picturestiue  aiul  dramatic  of  Ameri- 
can wars,  there  is  nothing  more  noteworthy  than  the  skill 
with  which  the  French  ami  Canadian  leaders  used  their 
advantages ;  the  indomitable  spirit  with  which,  slighted  and 
abandoned  as  they  were,  they  grappled  with  pro<ligious  diffi- 
culties, and  the  courage  with  which  they  were  seconded  by 
regulars  and  militia  alike.  In  spite  of  occasional  lapses,  the 
defence  of  Canada  deserves  a  tribute  of  admiration. 


1  ik 


454  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1762 


PKELIMINARIES  OF  PEACE » 

Ik  Pitt  had  been  in  office  he  wcmhl  have  demanded  terms 
that  must  ruin  past  redemption  the  maritime  and  colonial 
]xnver  of  France ;  but  IJute  was  less  exacting.     In  November 
the  i)lenipotentiaries  of  England,  France,  and  Spain  agreed 
on  preliminaries  of  peace,  in  which  the  following  were  the 
essential  ix)ints.     France  ceded  to  Great  Britain  Canada  and 
all  her  possessions  on  the  North  American  continent  east  of 
tlie  Kiver  Mississippi,  except  the  city  of  New  Orleans  and 
a   small   adjacent   district.     She   renounced   her   claims  to 
Acadia,  and  gave  up  to  the  conqueror  the  Island  of  Cape 
Breton,  with  all  other  islands  in  the  Gulf  and  River  of  St. 
Lawrence.     Spain  received  back  Havana,  and  paid  for  it  by 
the  cession  of  Florida,  with  all  lier  other  possessions  east  of 
the  Mississippi.     France,  subject  to  certain  restrictions,  was 
left  free  to  fish  in  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  and  off  a  part  of 
the  coast  of  Newfoundland ;  and  the  two  little  islands  of  St. 
Pierre  and  Miquelon  were  given  her  as  fishing  stations  on 
condition  that  she  should  not  fortify  or  garrison  them.     In 
the  West  Indies,  England  restored  the  captured  islands  of 
Guadeloupe,   Marigalante,   Ddsirade,   and    Martinique,   and 
France  ceded  Grenada  and  the  Grenadines;  while  it  was 
agreed   that  of  tlie  so-called  neutral  islands,  St.  Vincent, 
Dominica,  and  Tobago  should  belong  to  England,  and  St.' 
Lucia  to  France.     In  Europe,  each  side  promised  to  give  no 

>  Montcalm  and  Wolfe,  Vol.  II.,  Ch.  XXXI. 


i7«a]  Preliminaries  of  Peace  455 

more  help  to  its  allies  in  the  German  war.  France  restored 
Minorca,  and  England  restored  Belleisle;  France  gave  np 
such  parts  of  Hanoverian  territory  as  she  had  occupied,  and 
evacuated  certain  fortresses  belonging  to  Prussia,  pledging 
herself  at  the  same  time  to  demolish,  unde  •  the  inspection 
of  Knglisli  engineers,  her  own  maritime  fortioss  of  Dunkirk. 
In  Africa  France  ceded  Senegal,  and  received  hack  the  small 
Island  of  Gor(5e.  In  India  she  lost  everything  she  had  gained 
since  the  peace  of  Aix-la-Chaiielle ;  recovered  certain  tradmg 
stations,  but  renounced  the  right  of  building  forts  or  mam- 
taining  troops  in  Bengal. 

t)n  the  day  when  the  preliminaries  were  signed,  France 
made  a  secret  agreement  with  Spain,  by  which  she  divested 
herself  of  the  last  shred  of  her  possessions  on  the  North 
American  continent.  As  com^wnsation  for  Florida,  which 
her  luckless  ally  had  lost  in  her  quarrel,  she  made  over  to 
the  Spanish  Crown  the  city  of  New  Orleans,  and  under  the 
name  of  Louisiana  gave  her  the  vast  region  spreading  west- 
ward from  the  Mississippi  towards  the  Pacific. 

On  the  ninth  of  December  the  question  of  approving  the 
preliminaries  came  up  before  both  Houses  of  Parliament. 
There  was  a  long  debate  in  the  Commons.  Pitt  was  not 
present,  confined,  it  was  said,  by  gout ;  till  late  in  the  day 
the  House  was  startled  by  rejieated  cheers  from  the  outside. 
The  doors  opened,  and  the  fallen  minister  entered,  carried 
in  the  arms  of  his  servants,  and  followed  by  an  applauding 
crowd.  His  bearers  set  him  down  within  the  bar,  and  by 
the  help  of  a  crutch  he  made  his  way  with  difficulty  to  his 
seat.  "There  was  a  mixture  of  the  very  solemn  and  the 
theatric  in  this  apparition,"  says  Walpole,  who  was  present. 
"  The  moment  was  so  w  ell  timed,  the  importance  of  the  man 
and  his  services,  the  languor  of  his  emaciated  countenance, 


I 


I 


456  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [,763 

and  the  study  l..st<mecl  .m  his  dress  were  circumstances 
that  struck  solemnity  into  a  patriot  mind,  and  did  a  little 
furnish  ridicule  to  the  hanlened  and  insensible.     He  was 
dressed   in  Mack  velvet,  his  legs  and   tliiglis  wrapit-d   in 
tlunnel.  Ins  feet  covered  with  buskins  of  black  cloth,  an.l  his 
hands  with  thick  gloves."     Not  for  the  first  time,  he  was 
utihzmg  his  maladies  for  purposes  of  stage  efTect.     He  spoke 
for  about  three  hours,  sometimes  standing,  and  sometimes 
seated;  sometimes  with  a  brief  burst  of  power,  more  often 
with  the  accents  of  pain  and  exhaustion.     He  highly  com- 
mended tlie  retention  of  Canada,  but  denounced  the  leaving 
to  France  a  share  in  tlie  fisheries,  as  well  as  other  advantages 
tending  to  a  possible  revival  of  her  maritime  power.     But 
the  Commons  listened  coldly,  and  by  a  great  majority  ap- 
proved the  preliminaries  of  peace. 

These  preliminaries  were  embodied  in  the  definitive  treaty 
concluded  at  Paris  on  the  tenth  of  February,  1763  Peace 
between  France  and  England  brought  peace  between  the 
warnng  nations  of  the  Contiiient.  Austria,  bereft  of  her 
allies,  and  exhausted  by  vain  efforts  to  c.iish  Frederic,  gave 
up  the  attempt  in  despair,  and  signed  the  treaty  of  Huberts- 
burg.    The  Seven  Years  War  was  ended. 


1763-1884]  The  Results  of  Victory 


457 


THE  RESULTS  OF  VICTORY' 


All,  and  more  tlian  all,  that  France  had  lost  England  had 
won.  Now,  for  the  iirst  time,  she  was  heyond  dispute  the 
greatest  of  maritime  and  colonial  iK)wei-s.  Portugal  and 
Holland,  her  precursors  in  ocean  enterprise,  had  long  ago 
fallen  ho^Hjlessly  l»ehind.  Two  great  rivals  remained,  and 
she  had  humbled  the  one  and  swept  the  other  from  her  path. 
Si>ain,  with  vast  American  possessions,  was  sinking  into  the 
decay  which  is  one  of  the  phenomena  of  modern  history; 
while  France  had  abandoned  the  contest  in  despair.  Eng- 
land was  mistress  of  the  seas,  and  the  world  was  thrown 
f>]ien  to  her  merchants,  explorei-s,  and  colonists.  A  few  }  eare 
after  the  Teace  the  navigator  Coctk  began  his  memorable 
se.-ies  of  voyages,  and  sun-eyed  the  strange  and  barbarous 
lands  which  after  times  were  to  transform  into  other  Eng- 
lands,  vigorous  children  of  this  great  mother  of  nations.  It 
is  true  that  a  heavy  blow  was  soon  to  fall  upon  her;  her 
own  folly  was  to  alienate  the  eldest  and  greatest  of  her 
offspring.  But  nothing  could  rob  her  of  the  glory  of  giving 
birth  to  the  United  States ;  and,  though  politically  severed, 
this  gigantic  progeny  were  to  be  not  the  less  a  source  of 
growth  and  prosperity  to  the  parent  that  bore  them,  joined 
with  her  in  a  triple  kinship  of  laws,  language,  and  bV  .d. 
The  war  or  series  of  wars  that  ended  with  the  Peace  of  Pui 
secured  the  opportunities  and  set  in  action  the  forces  that 

»  Montcalm  and  W  !fe,  VoL  IL,  Cli.  XXXIL 


i 

u 

I 

i 
I 

I    ; 


n  i  > 


I  ! 


y\ 


1:1 


458  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [i7e3-i»«4 

have  planted  English  homes  in  every  ci...t,  and  dotted  the 
earth  with  Kiigli.sh  garrisons  and  {tosts  of  trade. 

Willi  the  Peaue  of  I'aiis  ended  the  checkered  stoiy  of 
New  France;  a  stor}'  which  would  have  been  a  history  if 
faults  of  constitution  and  the  bigotry  and  folly  of  rulers  had 
not  dwarfed  it  to  an  episinle.  Yet  it  is  a  noteworthy  one  in 
both  its  lights  and  its  shadows :  in  the  disinterested  zeal  of 
the  founder  of  Quebec,  the  self-tlevotion  of  the  early  mission- 
ary martyrs,  and  the  daring  enterprise  of  explorers ;  in  the 
spiritual  and  temporal  vassalage  from  which  the  only  escape 
was  to  the  savagery  of  the  wilderness  ;  and  in  the  swarming 
corruptions  which  were  the  natural  result  of  an  attempt  to 
rule,  by  the  ab;,olute  hand  of  a  master  beyond  the  Atlantic, 
a  people  bereft  of  every  vestige  of  civil  liberty.  Civil  liberty 
was  given  them  by  the  British  sword;  but  the  contjueror 
left  their  religious  system  untouched,  and  through  ■'  they 
have  iniposed  upon  themselves  a  weight  of  ecclesiastical 
tutelage  that  tinds  few  equals  in  the  most  Catholic  countries 
of  Europe. 

Scarcely  were  they  free  from  the  incubus  of  France  when 
the  British  provinces  showed  symptoms  of  revolt.  The 
measures  on  the  part  of  the  mother-country  which  roused 
their  resentment,  far  from  being  oppressive,  were  less  burden- 
some than  the  navigation  laws  to  which  they  had  long  sub- 
mitted; and  they  resisted  taxation  by  Parliament  simply 
because  it  was  in  princi})le  opposed  to  their  rights  as  free- 
men They  did  not,  like  the  American  provinces  of  Spain  at 
a  later  day,  sunder  themselves  from  a  parent  fallen  into 
decrepitude ;  but  with  astonishing  audacity  they  affronted 
the  wrath  of  England  in  the  hour  of  her  triumph,  forgot 
their  jealousies  and  qiiarr,  ^  joined  hands  in  the  common 
cause,  fouglit,  endured,  and  won.     Tlie   disunited   colonies 


ma. 


i763-i8«4]  The  Results  of  Victory  459 

l»ecame  the  United  States.  The  string  of  discordant  commu- 
nities along  tlie  Atlantic  coast  has  grown  to  a  mighty  people, 
joined  in  a  union  whi(jh  the  eartlujuake  of  civil  war  served 
o'dy  to  compact  and  consolidate.  Those  who  in  the  weak- 
ness of  their  dissensions  needed  help  from  England  against 
the  savage  on  their  borders  have  become  a  nation  that  may 
defy  every  foe  but  that  most  dangerous  of  all  foes,  herself, 
destined  to  a  majestic  future  if  she  will  shun  the  excess  and 
jicrversion  of  the  principles  that  made  her  great,  prate  less 
about  the  enemies  of  the  past  and  strive  TiO-e  against  the 
enemies  of  the  present,  resist  the  mob  and  the  demagogue  as 
she  resisted  Parliament  and  king,  rally  her  powers  from  the 
race  for  gold  and  the  delirium  of  prosperity  to  make  firm  the 
foundations  on  which  that  prosperity  rests,  and  turn  some 
fair  proportion  of  her  vast  mental  forces  to  other  objects 
than  material  progress  and  the  game  of  party  politics. 
She  has  tamed  the  savage  continent,  [copied  the  solitude, 
gathered  wealth  untold,  waxed  potent,  imposing,  redoubt- 
able ;  and  now  it  remains  for  her  to  prove,  if  she  can,  that 
the  rule  of  the  masses  is  consistent  with  the  highest  growth 
of  the  individual;  that  democracy  can  give  the  world  a 
civilization  as  mature  and  pregnant,  ideas  as  energetic  and 
vitalizing,  and  types  of  manhood  as  lofty  and  strong,  as  any 
of  the  systems  which  it  l)oasts  to  supplant. 

[The  tragic  conflict  for  supremacy  between  the  rival  nations 
was  now  at  an  end.  In  the  lull  which  followed,  a  sense  cf 
false  security  was  engendered  that  was  to  receive  its  rude 
awakening  from  an  unexpected  (piarter.  The  Indian  race 
was  doomed,  but  they  did  not  yield  their  prerogatives  with 
tame  submissiveness.  Their  great  concerted  effort  for  free- 
dom under  the  leadership  of  Pontiac  is  not  the  least  pic- 
turescjue  or  noble  episode  in  our  early  historj-. —  Ed.J 


till 

'f'i 
•  ii 

V 


1/ 1 


4- 


460  The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent 


THE  CHARACTER  AND  CUSTOMS  OF  THE 
INDIANS.' 

TilK.  Indian  is  a  true  child  oi  the  forest  and  the  desert. 
The  wastes  and  solitudes  of  nature  are  his  couf^enial  home. 
His  haughty  mind  is  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  wilder- 
ness, and  the  light  of  civilization  falls  on  hin>  with  a  blight- 
ing i)ower.  His  unruly  pride  and  untamed  freedom  are  in 
harmony  with  the  lonely  mountains,  cataracts,  and  rivers 
among  which  he  dwells;  and  primitive  America,  with  her 
savage  scenery  and  savage  men,  o,,c'ns  to  the  imagination  a 
boundless  world,  unmatched  in  wild  sublimity. 

The  Indians  east  of  the  Mississippi  may  be  divided  into 
several  great  families,  vach  distinguished  by  a  radical  ]itcu- 
liarity  of  language.  In  their  moral  and  intellectual,  their 
social  and  political  state,  these  various  families  exhibit 
strong  shades  of  distinction;  1  nit,  before  pointing  them  out, 
I  sliall  indicate  a  few  prominent  characteristics,  which, 
faintly  or  distinctly,  mark  the  wlnde  in  common. 

All  are  alike  a  race  ut  hunters,  sustaining  life  wholly,  or 
in  part,  by  the  fruits  t)f  ihe  chase.  Each  family  is  split 
into  tribes ;  and  these  tribes,  by  the  exigencies  of  the  hunter 
life,  are  again  divided  into  sub-tribes,  bands,  or  villages,  often 
scattered  far  asunder,  over  a  ^'ide  extent  of  wilderness.  Un- 
happily for  the  strength  and  harmony  of  the  Indian  race, 
each  tribe  is  prone  to  regard  itself,  not  as  the  member  of  a 

'  Tlie  CoiHpiracy  of  Pontiao,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  I. 


Character  and  Customs  of  the  Indians    461 

great  whole,  but  as  a  sovereign  and  indeiwiulent  nat::n, 
ofi(Mi  arrogating  to  itself  an  itniMirtance  suiwrior  to  all  the  rest 
of  niunkind ; '  and  the  warrior  whose  i>etty  hoard  might 
muster  a  few  scores  of  half-starveil  fighting  men,  strikes 
his  li.'ind  uixm  his  heart,  and  exclaims,  in  all  the  pride  of 
|>atriotism,  "  I  am  a  Mnwmonc." 

In  an  Indian  (-(imminiity,  each  man  is  his  own  master, 
lie  alihors  restraint,  and  owns  no  otiier  authority  Ihnu  his 
own  capricious  will;  and  yet  this  wihl  noti(»n  of  lilicrty  is 
not  inconsistent  with  certain  giadations  of  mnk  and  influ- 
ence. Kach  trilic  has  its  sachciti,  or  civil  chief,  whoso  ollice 
is  in  a  maimer  licrcditary,  and,  among  many,  thougli  by  no 
means  among  all  tribes,  descends  in  the  female  line;  so  that 
the  brother  of  the  incund)ent,or  the  son  of  his  sister,  and  not 
Iiis  own  son,  is  the  rightful  successor  to  his  dignities.  If. 
however,  in  the  oj»iiiion  of  the  old  men  and  subordinate 
chiefs,  the  heir  should  be  disqualitied  for  the  exercise  of  the 
oMicc  by  cowardice,  incapacity,  or  any  defect  of  cliaracrter. 
they  do  not  scruple  to  discard  him.  and  elect  another  in  his 
jilace.  usually  fixing  their  choice  on  one  of  his  relatives. 
The  oHice  of  the  .sachem  is  no  enviable  rme.  Tie  has  neither 
laws  to  administer  nor  power  to  enforce  his  commantls. 
Tlis  counsellors  are  the  inferior  chiefs  and  principal  men  of 
the  tribe;  and  he  never  sets  himself  in  op]K)sition  to  the 
po])ular  will,  which  is  the  sovereign  power  of  those  savage 
democracies.  His  province  is  to  advise,  and  not  U)  dictate ; 
but,  slunild  he  be  a  man  of  energy,  talent,  and  address,  and 
especially  .should    he   lie    supported  by  numerous   relatives 


'I 


!     I 


h: 


*  Many  Indian  trilws  bo.ir  n.imcs  wliii'h  in  their  tlialpct  signify  jjkti,  inili- 
oatinf;  that  tho  oharactcr  I'ddnK".  /"""  rj-rr/Zmrr.,  to  them.  Sonietirnes  the 
word  was  used  liy  itself,  .-ind  p.!i!!!!-!!ii;!-,  :ii!  as'.jictivc  was  jniisi!!  with  it,  as 
original  men,  men  .lurjxissiiig  nil  ulhirs. 


II. 


14 


\H\ 


Hi.  I 


462  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 

ami  friends,  he  may  uflen  acquire  no  small  measure  of 
respecl  and  power.  A  clear  di.slinction  is  drawn  '.'l,"<(en 
the  civil  and  military  authority,  though  both  ivo  otu-n 
united  hi  the  san»e  person.  The  functions  of  wo  -cl  u't  may, 
for  the  most  part,  be  exercised  by  any  one  wh"  '  i-owoss 
and  r('])ulation  are  sulhcient  to  induce  the  young  men  to 
follow  him  to  battle;  and  he  may,  whenever  he  tluiiks 
proper,  raise  a  band  of  volunteers,  and  go  out  against  the 
common  enemy. 

We  might  imagine  that  a  society  so  loosely  framed  would 
soon  resolve  itself  into  anarchy;  yet  this  is  not  the  case,  and 
an  Intlian  village  is  singidarly  free  from  wranglings  and 
])etty  strife.  Several  causes  conspire  to  this  result.  The 
necessities  of  the  hunter  life,  preventing  the  accunudation 
of  large  communities,  make  more  stringent  organization 
needless;  while  a  sjiecies  of  self-control,  inculcated  from 
childhund  upon  every  individual,  enforced  by  a  sentiment  of 
dignity  and  manhood,  and  greatly  aided  by  the  peculiar 
temperament  of  the  race,  tends  strongly  to  the  promotion  of 
harmony.  Though  he  owns  no  law,  the  Indian  is  inflexible 
in  his  adherence  to  ancient  usages  and  customs ;  and  the 
princi])le  of  hero-worship,  which  belongs  to  his  nat\n-e, 
inspires  him  with  deep  respect  for  the  sages  and  captains  of 
liis  tribe.  Tiie  very  rudeness  of  his  condition,  and  the 
absence  of  the  passions  which  wealth,  luxmy,  and  the  other 
incidents  of  civilization  engender,  are  favorable  to  internal 
harmony ;  and  to  the  same  cause  must  likewise  be  ascribed 
too  many  of  his  virtues,  which  would  quickly  vanish,  were 
he  elevated  from  his  savage  state. 

A  peculiar  social  institution  exists  among  the  Indians, 
very  curious  in  its  character;  and  thougli  I  am  not  prejiared 
1«>  say  that  it  may  be  traced  ihntugh  all  the  tribes  east  of 


Character  and  Customs  of  the  Indians    463 

the  Mississijipi,  yet  its  prevalence  is  so  general,  and  its 
inrtiicnce  on  political  relations  so  important,  as  to  claim 
especial  attention.  Iniliau  communities,  iudei)en(leutly  of 
their  local  distributi*^  into  tribes,  banils,  and  villages,  are 
composed  of  several  distinct  clans.  Each  clan  has  its  em- 
blem, consisting  of  the  ligiire  of  some  bird,  beast,  or  reyitile  ; 
and  each  is  distinguished  by  the  nan'.e  of  the  animal  which 
it  tlius  bears  as  its  device;  as,  for  example,  the  clan  of  the 
Wolf,  the  Deer,  the  Otter,  or  the  Hawk.  In  the  language  of 
the  Algonquins,  these  emblems  are  known  by  the  name  of 
Tutcms}  The  members  of  the  same  clan,  being  connected, 
or  supposed  to  V)e  so,  by  ties  of  kindred,  more  or  less  remote, 
are  prohibited  from  intermarriage.  Thus  Wolf  cannot  marry 
Wolf;  but  he  may,  if  lie  chooses,  take  a  wife  from  the  clan 
of  Hawks,  or  any  other  clan  but  his  own.  It  follows  that 
when  this  ])rohibition  is  rigidly  oliserved,  no  single  clan  can 
live  apart  horn  the  rest;  but  the  whole  m\ist  be  mingled 
together,  and  in  every  family  the  husband  and  wife  must  be 
of  ditl'erent  clans. 

To  dilferent  totems  attach  different  degrees  of  rank  and 
dignity;  and  those  of  the  ]»ear,  the  Tortoise,  and  the  Wolf 
are  among  the  first  in  lionor.  Each  man  is  ])roud  of  his 
bii'lge,  jealously  asseiting  its  claims  to  respect ;  and  tlie 
members  of  the  same  clan,  though  they  may,  perhaj)s,  speak 
dilferent  dialects,  and  dwell  far  asunder,  are  yet  bound  to- 
gether by  the  closest  ties  of  fraternity,  If  a  man  is  killed, 
every  member  of  the  clan  feels  called  upon  to  avenge  him ; 


'  Schnolcraft,  Onai'a,  172. 

The  extraordinary  fiftnres  intended  to  represent  tortoises,  deer,  snakes,  and 
otiier  animals,  which  are  often  seen  iij>p<'nded  to  Indian  treaties,  are  the  totems 
of  the  chiefs,  who  cniiilny  these  devices  of  their  resjieetive  elans  as  their  sij»n 
man>ial.  Tlie  device  of  tiis  clan  is  also  sometimes  tattooed  on  the  botly  of  the 
warrior. 


I 


464  The  Struggle  for  a  Contl  lent 

and  the  wayfarer,  the  hunter,  or  the  warrior  is  sure  of  a 
cordial  welcome  in  the  distant  lodge  of  the  clansman  whose 
face  perhaps  he  has  never  seen.  It  may  be  added  'at  cer- 
tain privileges,  highly  jn-ized  as  hereditary  rights,  sometimes 
reside  in  particular  clans;  such  as  that  of  furnishing  a 
sachem  to  the  tribe,  or  of  performing  certain  religious  cere- 
monies or  magic  rites. 

The  Indians  east  of  the  Mississippi  may  l>e  divided  into 
tliree  great  families :   the  Iroquois,  the  Algoncpiin,  and  the 
l^Iol)ilian,  each  speaking  a  lang\iage  of  its  own,  varied  by 
numerous  dialectic  forms.     To  these  families  must  be  added 
a  few  stragglers  from  the  great  western  race  of  the  Dahco- 
tah,  besides  several  distinct  tribes  of   the  south,  each   of 
which  has  been  regarded  as  speaking  a  tongue  peculiar  to 
itself.    The  Mobilian  group  embraces  the  motley  confederacy 
of  the  Creeks,  the  crafty  Choctaws,  and  the  stanch  and  war- 
like Chickasaws.     Of  these,  and  of  the  distinr-t  tribes  dwell- 
ing in  their  vicinity,  or  within  their  limits,  I  shall  only 
nliserve  that  they  offer,  with  many  modifications,  and  under 
different  as]«cts,  the  same  essential  features  which   mark 
the  Irocjuois  and  the  Algonquins,  the  two  great  families  of 
the  north.     The   latter,   who  were    the  consi)icuous  actors 
in  tlie   events  of  the  ensuing  narrative,   demand   a   ch)ser 
attention. 

Iroquois  Life.^  —  In  the  long  evenings  of  midwinter,  when 
in  the  wilderness  without  the  trees  cracked  with  biting  cold, 
and  the  forest  paths  were  clogged  with  snow,  then,  around  the 
lodge-fires  of  the  Iroquois,  warriors,  squaws,  and  restless  naked 
children  were  clustered  in  social  groups,  each  dark  face  bright- 
ening in  the  fickle  firelight,  while,  with  jest  and  laugh,  the  pipe 
passed  round  from  hand  to  hand.     I'erhaps  some  shiivelled 

>  Til"  Consiiiracy  of  I'ontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  I. 


!i 


Character  and  Customs  of  the  Indians    465 

old  warrior,  the  story-teller  of  the  tribe,  recouuted  to  atten- 
tive ears  the  deeds  of  ancient  lieroism,  legends  of  spirits 
and  monsters,  or  tales  of  witches  and  vampires  —  super- 
stitious not  less  rife  among  this  all-believing  race,  than 
among  the  nations  of  the  transatlantic  world. 

The  life  of  the  Iroijuois,  though  void  of  those  multiplying 
phases  which  vary  the  routine  of  civilized  existence,  was  one 
of  sharp  excitement  and  sudden  contrast.  The  chase,  the 
war-path,  the  dance,  the  festival,  the  game  of  hazard,  the 
race  of  j)olitical  ambition,  all  had  their  votaries.  When 
the  assemlded  sachems  had  resolved  on  war  against  some 
foreign  tribe,  and  when,  from  tlieir  great  council-house  of 
bark,  in  the  Valley  of  Onondaga,  their  messengers  had  gone 
forth  to  invite  the  warriors  to  arms,  then  from  east  to  west, 
through  the  farthest  bounds  of  the  confederacy,  a  thousand 
warlike  hearts  caught  up  the  summons.  With  fastiug  and 
prayinj  "nd  consulting  dreams  and  omens;  with  invoking 
the  war  d,  and  dancing  the  war-dance,  the  warriors  sought 
to  insure  the  triumph  of  their  arms;  and  then,  their  rites 
concluded,  they  began  their  stealthy  progress  through  the 
devious  pathways  of  the  forest.  For  days  and  weeks,  in 
anxious  expectation,  the  villagers  awaited  the  result.  And 
now,  as  evening  closed,  a  shrill,  wild  cry,  pealing  from  afar, 
over  the  darkening  forest,  proclaimed  the  return  of  the 
victorious  warriors.  The  village  was  alive  with  sudden 
commotion ;  and  snatching  sticks  and  stones,  knives  and 
hatchets,  men,  women,  and  children,  yelling  like  fiends  let 
ltx)se,  swarmed  out  of  the  narrow  portal,  to  visit  upon  the 
captives  a  foretaste  of  the  deadlier  torments  in  store  for 
them.  The  black  arches  of  the  forest  glowed  with  the  fires 
of  death ;  and  with  brandished  torch  and  firebrand  the  fren- 
zied multitude  closed  around  their  victim.     The  pen  shrinks 

30 


ir 


li' 


4 


11 


ill 


i ;  - 

li! 

-.    i 


466  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 

to  wrilo,  the  hwirl  sickeius  U>  conceive,  the  iierceness  ..f  lii.s 
agony ;  yet  still,  aiuia  the  lUii  of  his  ti.nnentois,  rose  his 
clear  voice  of  scorn  and  iletiance.  Tlie  work  was  done;  the 
blackened  trunk  was  Uung  to  tlie  dogs,  and,  with  clamorous 
shouts  and  iLH.tings,  the  murderers  sought  to  drive  away  the 
spirit  of  their  victim. 

The  Irociuois  reckoned  these  barbarities  among  their  most 
ex-iuisite  enjoyments ;   and  yet  they  had  other  sources  of 
pleasure,  which  made  i.P  in  frequency  and  in  innocence  what 
they  lacked  in  intensity.     Each  passing  season  had  its  feasts 
and   dances,  often    mingling  religion  with  social  pastime. 
The  young  had  their  frolics  and  merry-makings ;  and  the  old 
had  their  no  less  frequent  councils,  where  conversation  and 
laughter  alternated  with  grave  deliberations  for  the  public 
weal.     There  were  also  stated  periods  marked  by  the  recur- 
rence of  momentous  ceremonies,  in  which  the  whole  com- 
munity  took   part  —  the  mystic  sacrifice  of  the  dogs,  the 
orgies  of  the  dream  feast,  and  the  loathsome  festival  of  the 
exhumation  of  the  dead.     Yet  in  the  intervals  of  war  and 
hunting,  these  resources  would  often  fail ;   and,  while  the 
wf  men  were  toiling  in  the  cornfields,  the  lazy  warriors  be- 
guUed  the  hours  with  smoking  or  sleeping,  with  gambling  or 

gallantry. 

If  we  seek  for  a  single  trait  preeminently  characteristic  of 
the  Iroquois,  we  shall  find  i^.  in  that  boundless  pride  which 
impelled  them  to  style  themselves,  not  inaptly  as  regards 
ih  At  own  race,  "  the  men  surpassing  all  others."  "  Must  I," 
exclaimed  one  of  their  great  warriors,  as  he  fell  wounded 
among  a  crowd  of  Algonquins,  —  "  must  I,  who  have  made 
the  whole  earth  tremble,  now  die  by  the  hands  of  children  ?" 
Their  power  kept  pace  with  their  pride.  Their  war-parties 
roamed  over  half  America,  and  their  name  was  a  terror  from 


Character  and  Customs  of  the  Indians    467 

the  Atluntic  to  the  Mi.ssissipl»i ;  hut,  when  we  usk  tlie 
uunieriful  strength  nf  the  dreailed  cuufederacy,  when  we 
discover  that,  in  the  days  uf  their  greatest  triumphs,  their 
united  eant(jns  cuidd  not  have  nuistered  four  thousand  -var- 
riors,  we  stand  amazed  at  the  folly  and  dissension  whit :  left 
so  vast  a  region  the  prey  of  a  handful  of  bohl  marauders.  Of 
the  cities  and  villages  now  so  thickly  scattered  over  the  lost 
domain  of  the  Iroquois,  a  single  one  might  boast  a  mure 
numerous  population  than  all  the  five  united  tribes. 

Indian  Eeligion  and  Character.  —  The  religious  belief  of 
the  Algonquins  —  and  the  remark  holds   good,  not  of  the 
Algontpiins  only,  but  of  all  the  hunting  tribes  of  America 
—  is  a  cloudy  bewilderment,  where  we  seek  in  vain  for  sys- 
tem or  coherency.     Among  a  primitive  and  savage  i)eople, 
there  were  no  i)oets  to  vivify  its  images,  and  no   priests  to 
give  distinctness  and  harmony  to  its  rites  and  symbols.     To 
the  Indian  mind,  all    nature  was   instinct  with   dei'  -      A 
spirit  was  embodied  in  every  mountain,  lake,  and  cataract ; 
every  bird,  beast,  or  reptile,  every  tree,  shrub,  or  grass-blade, 
was  endued  with  mystic  influence ;  yet  this  untutored  pan- 
theism did  not  exclude  the  conception  of  certain  divinities, 
of  incongruous  and  ever-shifting  attributes.     The  siui,  too, 
was  a  god,  and  the  moon  was  a  goddess.     Ctmflicting  pow- 
ers of  good  and  evil  divided  the  universe :  but  if,  before  the 
arrival  of  Europeans,  the  Indian  recognized  the  existence 
of  one,  almighty,  self-existent  Being,  the  Great  Spirit,  the 
Lord  of  Heaven  and  Earth,  the  belief  was  so  vague  and 
dubious  as  scarcely  to  deserve  the  name.     His  perceptions 
of  moral  good  and  evil  were  perplexed  and  shadowy ;  and 
the  belief  in  a  state  of  future  reward  and  punishment  was  by 
no  means  universal. 

Of  the  Indian  character,  much  has  been  written  foolishly, 


f  - 

1! 
in 


f 


468  The  Struggle  tor  a  Continent 

aiul  credulously  believed.  \>y  the  rhapsodies  of  poets,  the 
cant  of  sentimentalists,  and  the  extravagance  of  some  who 
should  have  known  l»etter,  a  counterfeit  image  lias  been 
tricked  out,  which  might  seek  in  vain  for  its  likeness 
through  every  corner  of  the  habitable  earth ;  an  image 
bearing  no  more  reseml  dance  to  its  original,  than  the 
monarch  (jf  the  tragedy  and  the  hero  of  the  epic  poem 
bear  to  their  living  prototypes  in  the  palace  and  the  camp. 
The  shadows  of  his  wilderness  home,  and  the  darker  mantle 
of  his  own  inscrutpble  reserve,  have  made  the  Indian  war- 
rior a  wonder  and  a  mystery.  Yet  to  the  eye  of  rational 
observation  there  is  nothing  unintelligible  in  him.  He  is 
full,  it  is  true,  of  contradiction.  He  deems  himself  the 
centre  of  greatness  and  renown  ;  his  pride  is  proof  against 
the  tierccH  torments  of  tire  and  steel;  and  yet  the  same 
man  woidd  beg  for  a  dram  of  whiskey,  or  pick  up  a  crust 
of  bread  thrown  to  him  like  a  dog,  from  the  tent  door  of 
the  traveller.  At  one  moment,  he  is  wary  and  cautious  to 
the  verge  of  cowardice ;  at  the  next,  he  abandons  himself 
to  a  very  insanity  of  recklessness;  and  the  habitual  self- 
restraint  which  throws  an  impenetrable  veil  over  emotion  is 
joined  to  the  unbridled  passions  of  ?  madman  or  a  beast. 

Such  inccnisistencies,  strange  as  they  seem  in  our  eyes, 
when  viewed  under  a  novel  asi)ect,  are  but  the  ordinary 
incidents  of  humanity.  The  (pialities  of  the  mind  are  not 
unift)rm  in  their  action  through  all  tlie  relations  of  life. 
AV ith  diflerent  men,  and  different  races  of  men,  pride,  valor, 
prudence,  have  different  forms  of  manifestation,  and  where 
in  one  instance  they  lie  dormant,  in  another  they  are  keenly 
awake.  The  conjunction  of  greatness  and  littleness,  mean- 
ness and  pride,  is  older  than  the  days  of  the  i)atriarchs ;  and 
such  auti(iuated  phenomena,  displayed  under  a  new  form  in 


Character  and  Customs  of  the  Indians    469 

the  unreflecting,  undisciplined  mind  of  a  savage,  call  fi)r  no 
special  wonder,  but  should  rather  be  classed  with  the  other 
enigmas  of  the  fathomless  human  heart.  The  dissectuig 
knife  of  a  Kochefoucauld  mit'ht  lay  bare  matters  of  no  less 
curious  observation  in  the  breast  of  every  man. 

Nature  has  stamped  the  Indian  with  a  hard  and  stern  physi- 
ognomy. Ambition,  revenge,  envy,  jealousy,  are  his  ruling 
passions ;  and  his  cold  temperament  is  little  exposed  to  those 
effeminate  vices  which  are  the  bane  of  milder  races.  With 
him  revenge  is  an  overpowering  instinct ;  nay,  more,  it  is  a 
point  of  honor  and  a  duty.  His  pride  sets  all  language  at 
defiance.  He  loathes  the  thought  of  coercion  ;  and  few  of  his 
race  have  ever  stooped  to  discharge  a  menial  office.  A  wild 
love  of  liberty,  an  utter  intolerance  of  control,  lie  at  the  basis 
of  his  character,  and  tire  his  whole  existence.  Yet,  in  spite  of 
this  haughty  independence,  he  is  a  devout  hero-worshipper;  and 
high  achievement  in  war  or  policy  touches  a  chord  to  which 
his  nature  never  fails  to  respond.  He  looks  up  with  admir- 
ing reverence  to  the  sages  and  heroes  of  his  tribe;  and  it 
is  this  principle,  joined  to  the  respect  for  age  springing  from 
the  patriarchal  element  in  his  social  system,  which,  beyond 
all  others,  contributes  union  and  harmony  to  the  erratic 
members  of  an  Indian  community.  With  him  the  love  of 
glory  kindles  into  a  burning  passion ;  and  to  allay  its  crav- 
ings, he  will  dare  cold  and  famine,  fire,  tempest,  torture,  and 
death  itself. 

These  generous  traits  are  overcast  by  much  that  is  dark, 
cold,  and  sinister,  by  sleepless  distrust,  and  ranklmg  jealousy. 
Treacherous  himself,  he  is  always  suspicious  of  treachery  in 
others.     Brave  as  he  is,  —  and  few  of  mankind  are  braver, 

he  will  vent  his  passion  by  a  secret  stab  rather  than  an 

open  blow.    His  warfare  is  full  of  ambuscade  and  strata- 


f 


'«■. 

-t 


i 


470  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 

gem;  ami  he  never  1  islies  into  l.attle  with  that  joyous  self- 
abamlonnient,  with  wliich  the  warriors  of  the  Gothic  races 
thni},'  themselves  into  tiie  ranks  of  their  enemies.  In  his 
feasts  and  his  drinkinj,'  houts  we  tind  none  of  that  robust 
and  full-toned  mirth,  whicli  reigned  at  the  rude  carousals 
of  our  barbaric  anc.stry.  He  is  never  jovial  in  his  cups, 
and  maudlin  sorrow  or  maniacal  rage  is  the  sole  result  of 
his  potations. 

Over  all  emotittn  he  throws  the  veil  of  an  iron  self- 
control,  originating  in  a  jieculiar  form  of  jiride,  and  fostered 
by  rigorous  discipline  frt)m  chihlhood  upward.  He  is  trained 
to  conceal  ]iassion,  and  not  to  subdue  it.  The  inscrutable 
warrior  is  aptly  imaged  by  the  hackneyed  figure  of  a  volcano 
covered  with  snow^'and  no  man  can  say  when  or  where  the 
wild-lire  will  burst  forth.  This  shallow  self-mastery  serves 
to  give  dignity  to  pultlic  deliberation,  and  harmony  to  social 
life.  Wrangling  and  quarrel  are  strangers  to  an  Indian 
dwelling;  and  while  an  assembly  of  the  ancient  Gauls  was 
garrulous  as  a  convocation  of  magpies,  a  Roman  senate 
might  have  taken  a  lesson  from  the  grave  solemnity  of  an 
Indian  council.  In  the  midst  of  his  family  and  friends, 
he  hides  affections,  by  nature  none  of  the  most  tender,  under 
a  mask  of  icy  coldness;  and  in  the  torturing  tires  of  his 
enemy,  the  haughty  sufferer  maintains  to  the  last  his  look  of 
grim  defiance. 

His  intellect  is  as  peculiar  as  his  moral  organization. 
Among  all  savages,  the  powers  of  perception  pre])onderate 
over  those  of  reason  and  analysis  ;  but  this  is  more  especially 
the  case  with  the  Indian.  An  acute  judge  of  character,  at 
least  of  such  parts  of  it  as  his  experience  enables  him  to 
comprehend;  keen  to  a  proverb  in  all  exercises  of  war  and 
the  chase,  he  seldom  traces  eilects  to  their  causes,  or  follows 


Character  and  Customs  of  the  Indians    47» 

out  actions  to  their  ruincte  n-sulls.     Tlmii^'li  a  close  obseivur 
of  external  nature,  he  no  sooner  attempts  to  account  for  lier 
phenomena  than  he  involves  himself  in  the  most  ridiculous 
absurdities;  and  tpiite  content  with  these  imerilities,  he  has 
not  the  least  desire  to  push  Ids  iiuiuiries  further.     His  curi- 
osity, abundantly  active  within  its  own  narrow  circle,  is  dead 
to  all  things  else  ;  and  to  attempt  rousing  it  from  its  toriK.r 
is  but  a  bootless  task.     He  seldom  takes  cognizance  of  gen- 
eral or  abstract  ideas;  and  his  language  has  scarcely  the 
power  to  express  them,  except  tlirough  the  medium  of  ligures 
drawn  from  the  external   ,orld,  and  often  highly  picturesque 
and  forcible.     The  absence  of  retlection  makes  him  grossly 
improvident,  and   untits  him  for  pursuing  any  complicated 
scheme  of  war  or  policy. 

Some  races  of  men  seem  moulded  in  wax,  soft  and  melt- 
ing, at  once    plastic   and   feeble.     Some   races,   like   some 
metals,  combine  the  greatest  flexibility  with  the   greatest 
sti-ength.     But  the  Indian  is  hewn  out  of  a  rock.     You  can 
rarely  change  the  form  without  destruction  of  the  substance. 
Races  of  inferior  energy  have  possessed  a  power  of  expansion 
and  assimilation  to  which  he  is  a  stranger;   and  it  is  this 
fixed  and  rigid  quality  which  has  proved  his  ruiii.     He  wiU 
not  learn  the  arts  of  civilization,  and  he  and  his  forest  must 
perish  together.     The  stern,  unchanging  features  of  his  mind 
excite  our  admiration  from  their  very  immutabiliiy ;  and  we 
look  with  dcop  interest  on  the  fate  ..f  this  irreclaimable  son 
of  the  wilderness,  the  child  who  will  not  be  weaned  from 
the  breast  of  his  rugged  mother.     And  our  interest  increases 
when  we  discern  in  the  unhappy  wanderer  the  germs  of 
heroic  virtues  mingled  am.mg  his  vices,  —  a  hand  bountiful 
to  bestow  as  it  is  rapacious  to  seize,  and  even  in  extremest 
famine,  imparting  its  last  morsel  to  a  fellow-sufferer ;  a  heart 


472  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 

which,  strong  in  friendship  as  in  hate,  tliinks  it  not  ttM>  niiirh 
to  lay  down  life  for  its  chosen  comrade ;  a  soul  true  to  .  • 
own  idea  of  honor,  and  burning  with  an  uiniuencluible  thirst 
for  greatness  and  renown. 

The  imprisoned  lion  in  the  sliowman's  cage  dilTers  not 
more  widely  from  the  lord  of  the  desert  than  the  beg- 
garly frequenter  of  frontier  garrisons  and  dramsiioiis  ditlers 
from  the  proud  denizen  of  the  woods.  It  is  in  his  native 
wilds  alone  that  the  Indian  must  be  seen  and  studied. 
Thus  to  depict  him  is  the  aim  of  the  ensuing  History  ;  and 
if,  from  the  shades  of  rock  and  forest,  the  savage  features 
should  look  too  grindy  forth,  it  is  because  the  clouds  of  a 
temiHJstuous  war  have  cast  upon  the  picture  their  nuuky 
shadows  and  lurid  fires. 


>7«o| 


Pontiac's  Conspiracy 


473 


roNTTACS  CONSrniACY 

[TiiK  opisoile  known  to  history  as  tlic  Conspimcy  of  Tontiac 
is  niemonxMe  not  aloiu>  for  tlie  graj-luc  horrors  which  iimrked 
its  vrogrt'ss,  hut  also  hecaiui'  it  represents  In.lian  eharacter 
umler  a  new  iv.nl  alarming?  aspect.  The  pale-faeetl  con- 
(juerors  of  the  western  worhl  had  learned  to  their  cost  that 
their  savage  f.KJs  could  slake  their  resentment  in  nnuderous 
f..rays  on  the  unprot(  ted  frontiers.  They  never  suspected 
that  this  fickle  and  child-like  race  could  he  welded  hy  a 
master-mind  into  a  coalition  which  was  to  carry  menace  into 
the  very  strongholds  of  civilization.  —  Ed.] 

On  the  twelfth  of  Scptemher,  I7fi0,  Kogers,*  then  at  the 
height  of  his   reputation,  received  orders  from  Sir  Jeffrey 
Amherst  to  ascend  the  lakes  with  a  detachment  of  rangers, 
and  take  possession,  in  the  name  of  his  liritannic  IMajesty, 
of  Detr(»it,  Michillimackinac,  and  other  western  posts  in- 
cluded in  the  late  capitulation.^     Tfe  left  Montreal,  on  the 
following  day,  with  two  hundred  rangers,  in  fifteen  whale 
boats.     Stemming  the  surges  of  Ta  Chine  and  the  Cedars, 
they  left  behind  them  the  straggling  hamlet  which  bore  the 
latter  name,  and  formed  at  that  day  the  western  limit  of 
Canadian  settlement.     They  gained   Lake  Ontario,  skirted 
its  northern  shore,  amid  rough  and  boisterous  weather,  and 

•  The  Conspiracy  <.f  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.VI.  ^^ 

»  Rofjers  was  the  o.filehrate.l  leader  of  a  company  called  "  Rogers's  Rangers, 
which  had  ma.lo  itself  famous  in  the  previous  canip&ign. 


I 

i 


f  i 


474  The  Struggle  for  a  C\)ntinent  (1760 

cii'ssiii^  ut  its  wt'slorn  oxtivniity,  rcaclKul  Fort  Ningura  on 
tilt"  first  of  OctoliiT.  Curryin;,'  llu-ir  licat.s  over  llie  iK)rta«iL', 
they  lauiiclii'd  them  once  iiiori' above  the  tataraet,  and  slttwly 
] til rsiieil  their  voya;^e ;  whih'  Kojfers,  with  a  few  attendants, 
liastened  oii  in  aiivance  to  Fort  Pitt,  to  ileliver  despatches, 
witl»  wliii  h  he  was  charj,'ed,  to  (Jeneral  Moiicktoii.  This 
errand  ai-coiiiplishcd,  he  rejoined  liis  command  at  l'resi|n' 
Ish',  about  the  end  of  the  inoiiih,  and  tlie  whole  iiroceedcd 
toj^ether  ahmj^  tlie  smitlicrn  marj^iii  of  Lake  Kiie.  The  sea- 
son was  far  advanced.  The  wind  was  chill,  the  lake  was 
stormy,  and  the  woods  on  slu»re  were  tinjfed  ^'ifli  the  fadinj» 
luxes  (»f  autumn.  On  the  seventh  of  November,  they  reached 
the  mouth  of  a  river  called  by  Uofjers  the  ('Iiojra<re.  No 
body  ol  troops  umler  the  llritish  l!a<f  had  ever  bef<ire  jiene- 
trateil  so  far.  The  day  was  didl  iiml  rainy,  anil,  resolving  to 
rest  until  the  weather  should  improve,  Kogers  ordered  his 
men  to  prepare  their  encampment  in  the  neighboring  forest. 
Si>on  after  the  arrival  of  the  rangers,  a  party  of  Indian 
chiefs  and  warriors  entered  the  camji.  They  jis  >elaimed 
themselves  an  embassy  from  Pontiac,  ruler  of  all  that  coun- 
try, and  directed,  in  his  name,  that  the  English  should  ad- 
vantre  no  farther  until  they  had  luid  an  interview  with  the 
great  cl.ief,  who  was  already  (do.se  at  hand.  In  truth,  Itefore 
the  day  ch»sed,  I'ontiac  him.self  apjieared;  and  it  is  here,  for 
the  lirst  time,  that  this  remarkable  man  stands  forth  dis- 
tinctly on  the  ])age  of  history,  lie  greeteil  llogers  with  the 
liaughty  demand,  what  was  his  business  in  that  country,  and 
how  he  dared  enter  it  without  his  permission.  Itogers  in- 
formed him  that  the  French  were  defeated,  that  Canada  had 
surrendered,  and  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  take  possession 
of  Detroit,  and  restore  a  general  jteace  to  white  men  and 
Indians  alike.     Tontiac  listened  with  attention  but  only  re- 


i76<^«763l  Pontiac's  Conspiracy  475 

plii'tl  thai  he  sluiiiM  wland  iu  the  i»ath  of  the  Eiifjlish  until 
iiiurijiii},'.  Huving  iiKiuired  if  the  strangers  were  in  need  of 
imvthin-,'  which  his  country  could  allord,  he  wiihtlrew,  with 
liis  chiefs  at  nightfall,  to  his  own  encauipmeut ;  while  the 
Kiiglisli,  ill  at  ease,  and  susiiecting  treachery,  stood  well  on 
their  giianl  througliout  the  night. 

!n  the  morning,  I'ontiac  returned  t(»  the  cam])  with  his  at- 
tendant chiefs,  and  made  his  rej.ly  t(t  Uogers's  s|HH>ch  of  the 
j.revious  day.  He  was  willing,  he  said,  to  live  at  i>eace  with 
the  Knglish,  and  suffer  them  to  remain  in  his  country  as  long 
as  they  treated  him  with  due  respect  and  deference.  The 
Indian  chiefs  and  jirovincial  tillicers  smoked  the  calumet 
together,  and  perfect  iiarniony  seemeil  established  between 

them. 

Up  to  tliis  time,  Tontiac  had  been,  in  word  and  deed,  tlie 
fast  ally  of  the  French ;  but  it  is  easy  to  discern  the  motives 
that  impelled  him  to  renounce  his  old  adherence.  The 
American  forest  never  prt)duced  a  man  more  shrewd,  politic, 
and  ambitions.  Ignorant  as  he  was  of  what  was  passing  in 
the  world,  he  couhl  clearly  see  that  the  French  power  was 
on  the  wane,  and  he  knew  his  own  interest  too  well  to  prop 
a  falling  cause.  Ily  making  friends  of  the  English,  he  hoped 
to  gain  powerful  allies,  who  woidd  aid  his  ambitious  projects, 
and  give  him  an  increased  inlluence  over  the  tril)es  ;  and  he 
flattered  himself  that  the  new-comers  would  treat  him  with 
the  same  respect  which  the  French  had  always  observed.  In 
this,  and  all  his  other  exjiectations  of  advantage  from  the 
English,  he  was  doomed  to  di  .ppointment. 

Character  of  Pontiac.^  —  Pontiac,  as  already  mentioned,  was 
principal  chief  of  the  Ottawas.  The  Ottawas,  Ojibwas,  and 
Vottawattamies,  had  long  been  united  in  a  loose  kind  of  con- 

»  The  Conspiracy  of  I'ontiac,  Vol.  1.,  Ch,  VII. 


if 


476  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent      [1760-1763 

federacy,  of  which  he  was  the  virtual  head.  Over  those 
around  him  his  authority  was  almost  despotic,  and  his  power 
exteuded  far  beyoud  the  limits  of  the  three  united  tri])es. 
His  influence  was  great  among  all  the  nations  of  the  Illinois 
couutrj';  while,  from  the  sources  of  the  Ohio  to  those  of 
tlie  Mississippi,  and,  indeed,  t(»the  farthest  Ix.undaries  of  the 
widespread  Algonquin  race,  his  name  was  known  and 
respected. 

The  fact  that  Tontiac  was  horn  the  son  of  a  cliief  would 
in  no  degree  account  for  the  e.xtent  of  his  power;  for,  among 
Indians,  many  a  chief's  sou  sinks  back  into  insignificance, 
while  the  offspring  of  a  common  wan-ior  may  succeed  to 
his  place.     Among  all  the  wild  tribes  of  the  continent,  per- 
sonal merit  is  indispensable  to  gaining  or  i)reserving  dignity. 
Courage,  resolution,  address,  and  ebxiucnce  are  sure  passports 
to  distinction.     With   all  tliese  I'ontiac  was   pre-eminently 
endowed,  and  it  was  chiefly  to  them,  urged  to  their  highest 
activity  by  a  vehement  ambition,  that  he  owed  his  greatness. 
He  possessed  a  commanding  energy  and  force  of  mind,  and 
in  subtlety  and  craft  could  match  the  best  of  his  wily  race. 
But,  though   capable  of  acts   of  magnanimity,   he   was   a 
thorough  savage,  with  a  wider  range  of  intellect  than  those 
around  him,  but  sharing  all  their  passions  and  jtrojudices, 
their  fierceness  and  treacliery.     His  faults  were  the  faults  of 
his  race;    and   they   cannot  eclii)se   liis  nubler    (pialities. 
His  memory  is  still  cherished  anumg  the  remnants  of  many 
Algonquin  tril»es,  and  the  celebrated  Tecumseh  adopted  him 
for  his  model,  proving  liimself  no  unworthy  imitator. 

Pontiac'8  Plans.' —  Tonliac  was  now  (1760)  about  fifty 
years  old.  Until  Major  Ilogera  came  into  the  countrj-,  lie 
liadbeen  from  motives  proliably  both  of  interest  and  inclina- 

J  The  fonsjiiracy  of  I'ontiac.  Vol,  I„  f'li.  VII. 


1760-1763]  Pontiac's  Conspiracy  477 

tion,  a  firm  friend  of  the  French.  Not  long  before  the 
French  war  broke  out,  he  had  saved  the  garrison  of  Detroit 
from  the  imminent  iieril  of  an  attack  from  some  of  the  dis- 
contented tribes  of  the  north.  During  the  war,  he  had 
fou'dit  on  the  side  of  France.  It  is  said  that  he  ccmimanded 
the  (Htawas  at  the  memorable  defeat  of  V.raddock  ;  and  it  is 
certain  that  he  was  treated  with  much  honor  by  tlie  French 
ollicers,  and  received  especial  marks  of  esteem  from  the  Mar- 
qtiis  of  ]\Iontcalm. 

We  have  seen  how,  when  the  title  of  affairs  clianged,  the 
subtle  and  ambitious  chief  trimmed  his  bark  to  the  current, 
and  gave  the  hand  of  friendship  to  the  English.  That  he 
was  disappointed  in  their  treatment  of  I'.ini,  and  in  all  the 
liopes  that  lie  had  formed  from  their  alliance,  is  sufficiently 
evident  fnim  one  of  his  speeches.  A  new  light  soon  began 
to  dawn  upon  his  untaught  but  powerful  mii-d,  and  he  saw 
the  altered  posture  of  aflairs  under  its  true  aspect. 

U  was  a  momentous  and  gloomy  crisis  for  the  Indian  race, 
[or  never  before  had  they  been  exp(»sed  to  such  imminent 
and  pressing  danger.  With  the  downfall  of  Canada,  the 
tribes  had  sunk  at  once  from  their  position  of  imjuHtance. 
Hitherto  i]w  two  rival  European  nations  had  kept  eadi  other 
in  check  upon  the  American  ctmtinent,  and  the  Indians  had, 
in  some  measure,  held  ti.e  balance  of  p)wer  between  them. 
To  conciliate  their  good-will  and  gain  their  alliance,  to  avoid 
offending  them  by  injustice  and  encroachment,  was  tlio 
ptdicy  both  of  tlie  French  and  English.  I'.ut  now  the  face 
of  affairs  was  changed.  The  Englisli  had  gained  an  undis- 
puted a.scendency,  and  the  Indians,  no  hnger  important  as 
allies,  were  treated  as  mere  barltarians,  wlio  might  be 
tramplc'1  ni>on  with  impunity.  Abandoned  to  their  own 
feeble  resources  and  divided  strength,  they  must  fast  recede, 


1 

•  - 

i 


I 


I 


478  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent     [1760-1763 

and  dwindle  away  before  the  steady  progress  of  the  colonial 
jjower.  Already  their  l)est  hunting-grounds  were  invaded, 
and  from  the  eastern  ridges  of  the  Alleghanies  they  might 
see,  from  far  and  near,  the  smoke  of  the  settlers'  clearings, 
rising  in  tall  columns  from  the  dark-green  bosom  of  the  forest. 
Tlie  doom  of  the  race  was  sealed,  and  no  human  power 
vouhX  avert  it ;  but  they,  in  their  ignorance,  believed  other- 
wise, and  vainly  thought  that,  by  a  desperate  effort,  they 
might  yet  uproot  and  overthrow  the  growing  strength  of 
their  destroyers. 

It  would  .be  idle  to  suppose  that  the  great  mass  of  the 
Indians  understood,  in  its  full  extent,  the  danger  which 
tlireatened  their  race.  With  them,  the  war  was  a  mere  out- 
break of  fury,  and  they  turned  against  their  enemies  with  as 
little  reason  or  forecast  as  a  panther  when  he  leaps  at  the 
throat  of  the  huiiter.  Goaded  by  wrongs  and  indignities, 
they  struck  for  revenge,  and  for  relief  from  the  evil  of  the 
moment.  But  the  mind  of  Pontiac  could  embrace  a  wider  and 
deeper  view.  The  peril  of  the  times  was  unfolded  in  its  full 
extent  before  him,  and  he  resolved  to  unite  the  tribes  in  one 
grand  effort  to  avert  it.  He  did  not,  like  many  of  his  people, 
entertain  the  absurd  idea  that  ^he  Indians,  by  their  unaided 
strength,  could  drive  the  Er  to  the  sea.    He  adopted  the 

only  plan  consistent  with  i  ■  .hat  of  restoring  the  French 
ascendency  in  the  west,  ax  '  ce  more  opposing  a  check  to 
liritish  encroachment.  With  views  like  these,  he  lent  a 
greedy  ear  to  the  plausible  falsehoods  of  the  Canadians,  who 
assured  him  that  the  armies  of  King  Louis  were  already 
advancing  to  recover  Canada,  and  that  the  French  and  their 
red  brethren,  figliting  side  by  side,  would  drive  the  English 
dogs  Viack  within  their  own  narrow  limits. 


riib 


1763] 


Indian  Preparation 


479 


INDIAN  rilEPAKATION ' 


I  INTERRUPT  the  progress  of  the  narrative  I0  glance  for  a 
moment  at  the  Indians  in  their  military  capacity,  and  ob- 
serve how  far  they  were  qualified  to  prosecute  the  formidable 
war  into  which  they  were  about  to  plunge. 

A  people  living  chiefly  by  the  chase,  and  therefore,  of 
necessity,  thinly  and  widely  scattered  ;  divided  into  numer- 
ous tribes,  held  together  by  no  strong  principle  of  cohesion, 
and  with  no  central  government  to  combine  their  strength, 
could  act  with  little  efficiency  against  such  an  enemy  as 
was  now  opposed  to  them.  Loose  and  disjointed  as  a  whole, 
the  government  even  of  individual  tribes,  and  of  their 
smallest  separate  communities,  was  too  feeble  to  deserve  the 
name.  There  were,  it  is  true,  chiefs  whose  office  was  in  a 
manner  hereditary;  but  their  authority  was  wholly  of  a 
moral  nature,  and  enforced  by  no  compulsory  law.  Their 
province  was  to  advise,  and  not  to  command.  Their  in- 
fluence, such  as  it  was,  is  chiefly  to  be  ascribed  to  the  prin- 
ciple of  hero-worship,  natural  to  the  Indian  character,  and 
to  the  reverence  for  age,  which  belongs  to  a  state  of  society 
where  a  patriarchal  element  largely  prevails.  It  was  their 
office  to  declare  war  and  make  peace ;  but  when  war  was  de- 
clared, they  had  no  power  to  carry  the  declaration  into  effect. 
The  warriors  fought  if  they  chose  to  do  so ;  but  if,  on  the 
contrary,  they  preferred  to  remain  quiet,  no  man  could  force 

1  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  VIIL 


f 


480  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1763 

them  to  raise  the  hatchet.     The  war-chief,  whose  part  it  was 
to  load  them  to  battle,  was  a  mere  partisan,  whom  his  bravery 
and  exploits  had  led  to  distinction.     If  he  thought  proper, 
he  sang  his  war-song  and  danced  his  war-dance;  and  as 
many  of  the  young  men  as  were  disposed  to  follow  him, 
gathered  around  and  enlisted  themselves  under  him.     Over 
these  v(dunteers  he  had  no  legal  authority,  and  they  could 
desert  him  at  atiy  moment,  with  no  other  ])enalty  than  dis- 
grace.     When   several   war-parties,  of  different   bands   or 
tribes,  were   united  in   a  common   enterprise,   their  chiefs 
elected  a  leader,  who  was  nominally  to  command  the  whole  ; 
but  unless  this  leader  was  a  man  of  uncommon  reputation 
and  ability,  his  commands  were  disreganled,  and  his  author- 
ity was  a  cipher.    Among  his  followers,  every  latent  element 
of  discord,  pride,  jealousy,  and  ancient  half-smothered  feuds, 
were  ready  at  any  moment  to  break  out,  and  tear  the  whole 
asunder.     His  warriors  would  often  desert  in  bodies;  and 
many  an  Indian  army,  before  reaching  the  enemy's  countr)-, 
has  been  known  to  dwindle  away  until  it  was  reduced  to  a 
mere  scalping-party. 

To  twist  a  rope  of  sand  would  be  as  easy  a  task  as  to 
form  a  p-rmanent  and  effective  army  of  such  materials.    The 
wild  love  of  freedom,  and  impatience  of  all  control,  which 
mark  the  Indian  race,  ren.ler  them  utterly  intolerant  of  mili- 
tary discipline.     Partly  from  their  individual  character,  and 
partly    from  this  absence  of  subordination,   spring   results 
liighly  unfavorable  to  continued  and  extended  military  oper- 
ations.    Indian  warriors,  when  acting  in  large  masses,  are  to 
tlie  last  degree  wayward,  capricious,  and  unstable ;  infirm  of 
pT,rp)se  as  a  mob  of  <hildren,  and  devoid  of  pr.>vidence  and 
fcresigiit.     To  provide  supplies  f<ir  a  campaign  forms  no  part 
of  their  system.     Hence  the  blow  must  be  struck  at  once,  or 


1763]  Indian  Preparation  481 

not  struck  at  all ;  and  to  postpone  victor)-  is  to  insure  defeat. 
It  is  when  acting  in  small,  detached  parties,  that  the  Indian 
warrior  puts  forth  his  energies,  and  displays  his  admirable 
address,  endurance,  and  intrepidity.  It  is  then  that  he  be- 
comes a  truly  formidable  enemy.  Fired  with  the  hope  of 
winning  scalps,  he  is  stanch  as  a  bloodhound.  No  hardship 
can  divert  him  from  his  purpose,  and  no  danger  subdue  his 
patient  and  cautious  courage. 

From  their  inveterate  passion  for  war,  the  Indians  are 
always  prompt  enough  to  engage  in  it ;  and  on  the  present 
occasion,  the  prevailing  irritation  gave  ample  assurance  that 
they  would  not  remain  idle.  While  there  was  little  risk  that 
they  woiUd  capture  any  strong  and  well-defended  fort,  or 
carry  any  important  position,  there  was,  on  the  other  hand, 
every  reason  to  apprehend  wide-spread  havoc,  and  a  destruc- 
tive war  of  detail.  That  the  war  might  be  carried  on  with 
effect,  it  was  the  part  of  the  Indian  leaders  to  work  upon  the 
passions  of  their  people,  and  keep  alive  their  irritation ;  to 
whet  their  native  appetite  for  blood  and  glory,  and  cheer 
them  on  to  the  attack  ;  to  guard  against  all  that  might  quench 
their  ardor,  or  cool  their  fierceness ;  to  avoid  pitched  liattles  ; 
never  to  fight  except  under  advantage ;  and  to  avail  them- 
selves of  all  the  aid  which  craft  and  treachery  could  afford. 
The  very  circumstances  which  unfitted  the  Indians  for  con- 
tinued and  concentrated  attack  were,  in  another  view,  highly 
advantageous,  by  preventing  the  enemy  from  assailing  them 
with  vital  effect.  It  was  no  easy  task  to  penetrate  tangled 
woods  in  search  of  a  foe,  alert  and  active  as  a  lynx,  who 
would  seldom  stand  and  fight,  whose  deadly  shot  and  tri- 
umphant whoop  were  the  first  and  often  the  last  tokens  of 
his  presence,  and  who,  at  the  approach  of  a  hostile  force, 
would  vanish  into  the  black  recesses  of  forests  and  pine 

31 


I: 


:^« 


if 


482  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1763 

s\vaini)a,  only  to  renew  his  attacks  with  unabated  ardor. 
There  were  no  forts  to  capture,  no  magazines  to  destroy,  and 
little  property  to  seize  ui^n.  No  warfare  could  be  more 
perilous  and  harassing  in  its  prosecution,  or  less  satisf-.ctory 
in  its  results. 

The  English  colonies  at  this  time  were  but  ill-fitted  to 
bear  the  brunt  of  the  impending  war.     The  army  which  had 
conquered  Canada  was  broken  up  and  dissolved ;  the  pro- 
vincials were  disbanded,  and  most  of  the  regulars  sent  home. 
A  few  fragments  of  regiments,  miserably  wasted  by  war  and 
sickness,  had  just  arrived  from  the  West  Indies;  and  of 
these,  several  were  already  ordered  to  England,  to  be  dis- 
banded.    There  remained  barely  troops  enough  to  furnish 
feeble  garrisons  for  the  various  forts  on  the  frontier  and  in 
the  Indian  country.     At  the  head  of  this  dilapidated  army 
was  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst,  who  had  achieved  the  reduction  of 
Canada,  and  olinched  the  nail  which  Wolfe  had  driven.     In 
some  respects  he  was  well  fitted  for  the  emergency  ;  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  held  the  Indians  in  supreme  contempt, 
and  his  arbitrary  treatment  of  them  and  total  want  of  every 
quality  of  conciliation  where  they  were  concerned,  had  had 
no  little  share  in  exciting  them  to  war. 

While  the  war  was  on  the  eve  of  breaking  out,  an  event 
occurred  which  had  afterwards  an  important  effect  upt)n  its 
progress,  —  the  signing  of  the  treaty  of  peace  at  Paris,  on 
the  tenth  of  February,  I7G3.  By  this  treaty  France  resigned 
her  claims  to  the  territories  east  of  the  Mississippi,  and  that 
great  river  now  became  the  western  boundary  of  the  British 
colonial  possessions.  In  portioning  out  her  now  acquisitions 
into  separate  governments,  England  left  the  valley  of  the 
Ohio  and  the  adjacent  regions  as  an  Indian  domain,  and  by 
the  proclamation  of  the  seventh  of  October  following,  the 


1 
i 


,763]  Indian  Preparation  483 

intriAion  of  settlers  upon  these  laiuls  was  strictly  prohilnted. 
Could  these  just  and  necessary  measures  have  been  sooner 
adopted,  it  is  probable  that  the  Indian  war  might  have  been 
prevented,  or,  at  all  events,  rendered  less  general  and  violent, 
for  the  treaty  would  have  made  it  apparent  that  the  French 
could  never  repossess  themselves  of  Canada,  and  would  have 
proved  the  futility  of  every  hope  which  the  Indians  enter- 
tained of  assistance  from  that  quarter,  while,  at  the  same 
time,  the  royal  proclamation  would  have  tended  to  tran- 
quillize their  minds,  by  removing  the  chief  cause  of  irritation. 
But  the  remedy  came  too  late,  and  served  only  to  inflame  the 
evil.  While  the  sovereigns  of  France,  England,  and  Spain, 
were  signing  the  treaty  at  Paris,  countless  Indian  warriors 
in  the  American  forests  were  singing  the  war  song,  and 
whetting  their  scalping-knives. 

Throughout  the  western  wilderness,  in  a  hundred  camps 
and  villages,  were  celebrated  the  savage  rites  of  war.     War- 
riors, women,  and  children  were  alike   eager  and  excited; 
magicians  consulted  their  oracles,  and  prepared  charms  to 
insure  success ;  while  the  war-chief,  his  body  paii.ied  black 
from  head  to  foot,  concealed  himself  in  the  solitude  of  rocks 
and  caverns,  or  the  dark  recesses  of  the  forest.     Here,  fast- 
ing and  praying,  he  calls  day  and  night  upon  the  Great  Spirit, 
consulting  his  dreams,  to  draw  from  them  auguries  of  good 
or  evil ;  and  if,  perchance,  a  vision  of  the  great  war-eagle 
seems  to  hover  over  him  with  expanded  wings,  he  exults 
in  the  full  conviction  of  triumph.     When  a  few  days  have 
elapsed,  he  emerges  from  his  retreat,  and  the  people  discover 
him   descending   from    the   woods,  and  approaching  their 
camp,  black  as  a  demon  of  war,  and  shrunken  with  fasting 
and  vigil.     They  flock  around  and  listen  to  his  wild  harangue. 
He  calls  on  them  to  avenge  the  blood  of  their  slaughtered 


i 

I* 

I  i 

I 


a 


I' 


|!  ' 


484  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1763 

ri'latives ;  lio  assures  them  that  the  Great  Spirit  is  oh  their 
side,  and  that  victory  is  certain.  With  exulting  cries  tliey 
disperse  to  their  wigwams,  to  array  themselves  in  the  savage 
decorations  of  tlie  war-dress.  An  old  man  now  passes 
through  the  camp,  and  invites  the  warriors  to  a  feast  in  the 
name  of  the  cliief.  They  gather  fnim  all  (luarters  to  his 
wigwam,  where  they  find  him  seated,  no  longer  covered  with 
black,  hut  adorned  with  the  startling  and  fantastic  blazonry 
of  the  war-paint.  Those  who  join  in  tlie  feast  pledge  them- 
selves, by  so  doing,  to  follow  him  against  the  enemy.  The 
guests  seat  themselves  ou  the  groiuid,  in  a  circle  around  the 
wigwam,  and  the  flesh  of  (K)gs  is  j'^aced  in  wooden  dishes 
before  them,  while  the  chief,  tliougli  goaded  by  tlie  i»angs  of 
his  long,  unbroken  fast,  sits  smoking  his  pijH}  with  unmoved 
countenance,  and  takes  no  part  in  the  feast. 

Night  has  now  closed  in ;  and  the  rough  clearing  is  illu- 
mined by  the  blaze  of  tires  and  burning  pine-knots,  casting 
their  deep  red  glare  upon  the  dusky  boughs  of  the  surround- 
ing forest,  and  upon  the  wild  multitude  who,  fluttering  with 
feathers  and  bedaubed  with  paint,  have  gathered  for  the 
celebration  of  the  war-dance.  A  painted  post  is  driven  into 
the  ground,  and  the  crowd  form  a  wide  circle  around  it. 
The  chief  leaps  into  the  vacant  .space,  brandishing  Iiis  hatchet 
as  if  rushing  ujHin  an  enemy,  and,  in  a  loud,  vehement 
tone,  chants  his  own  exploits  and  tho.se  of  his  ancestors, 
enacting  the  deeds  which  he  describes,  yelling  the  war- 
whoop,  throwing  himself  into  all  the  jiostures  of  actual  fight, 
striking  the  post  as  if  it  were  an  enemy,  and  tearhig  the  scalj) 
from  the  head  of  the  imaginary  victim.  Warrior  after  war- 
rior follows  his  example,  until  the  whole  assembly,  as  if 
fired  with  sudden  frenzy,  rush  together  into  the  ring,  leaping, 
stamping,  and  whooping,  brandishing  knives  and  hatchets  in 


1763I  Indian  Preparation  4^5 

tliu  iire-li^'liL,  Imikiiif?  ami  stabbiiitj  tlie  air,  and  breaking  at 
intervals  into  a  burst  of  ferocious  yells,  which  sounds  for 
miles  away  over  the  lonely,  midnight  forest. 

In  the  morning,  the  warriors  prepare  to  depart.  They 
leave  the  camp  in  single  tile,  still  decorated  with  all  their 
finery  of  paint,  feathers,  and  scalp-locks  ;  and,  as  they  enter 
the  woods,  the  chief  tires  his  gun,  the  warrior  behind  fol- 
lows his  example,  and  the  discharges  pass  in  slow  succes- 
sion from  front  to  rear,  the  salute  concluding  with  a  general 
whoop.  They  encamp  at  no  great  distance  from  the  village, 
and  divest  themselves  of  their  much-prized  ornaments,  which 
are  carried  back  by  the  women,  who  have  followed  them  for 
this  purpose.  The  waniors  pursue  their  journey,  clad  in 
the  rough  attire  of  hard  service,  and  move  silently  and 
stealthily  through  tlie  forest  towards  the  hapless  garrison,  or 
defenceless  settlement,  which  they  have  marked  as  their  prey. 

The  woods  were  now  tilled  with  war-parties  such  as  this, 
and  soon  the  tirst  tokens  of  the  approaching  tempest  began 
to  alarm  the  unhappy  settlers  of  the  frontier.  At  first, 
some  trader  or  hunter,  weak  and  emaciated,  would  come  in 
from  the  forest,  and  relate  that  his  companions  had  been 
butchered  in  the  Indian  villages,  and  that  he  alone  had 
escaped.  Next  succeeded  vague  and  uncertain  rumors  of 
forts  attacked  and  garrisons  slaughtered ;  and  soon  after,  a 
report  gained  ground  that  every  jiost  throughout  the  Indian 
country  had  l)een  taken,  and  every  soldier  killed.  Close 
upon  these  tidings  came  the  enemy  himself.  The  Indian 
war-parties  broke  out  of  the  woods  like  gangs  of  wolves, 
murdering,  burning,  and  laying  waste;  while  liundreds  of 
terror-stricken  families,  abandoning  their  homes,  fled  for 
refuge  towards  the  older  settlements,  and  all  was  miserj' 
and  ruin. 


486 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [«7e3 


I    I 


\i 


TlIK  TIIUKATKNEl)   ATTACK   AdAlNST   DKTUOlT* 

In  the  rottawattaraie  village,  if  there  l»e  truth  in  tradition, 
lived  an  Ojibwa  girl,  who  could  boast  a  larger  share  of  beauty 
than  is  common  in  the  wigwam.     She  had  attracted  the  eye 
of  Gladwyn.     He  had  formed  a  connection  with  her,  and 
she  had  become  much  attached  to  liim.     On  the  aftern.Hm 
of  the  sixth,  Catharine  -  for  so  the  olhcers  called  her  -  came 
to  the  fort,  and  repaired  to  ( Jladwyn's  .luarters,  bringing  witli 
her  a  pair  of  elk-skin  moccasins,  ornamented  with  porcupme 
work,  which  he  had  re-iuested   her  to  make.     There  was 
something  unus  ,  ^i  in  her  look  and  manner.     Her  face  was 
sad  and  downcast.     She  said  little,  and  soon  left  the  room; 
but  the  sentinel  at  the  door  saw  her  still  lingering  at  the 
street  corner,  though   the  hour  for  chasing  the  gates  was 
nearly  come.     At  length  she  attracted  the  notice  of  (Hadwyn 
himself;  and  calling  her  to  him,  he  pressed  her  to  declare 
what  was  weighing  upon  her  mind.     Still  she  remained  f..r 
a  long  time  silent,  and  it  was  only  after  nuich  urgccy  and 
:nany  promises  not  to  betray  her.  that   she  revealed   her 

momentous  secret. 

To-uu.rrow,  she  said,  Pontiac  will  come  to  the  fort  with 
sixty  ..f  his  chiefs.  Each  will  be  armed  with  a  gun,  cut 
short,  and  hidden  umler  his  blanket.  I'orliac  will  demami 
to  hold  a  council;  and  after  he  has  delivered  his  speech,  he 
will  offer  a  pea  .e-belt  of  wampum,  holding  it  in  a  reversed 

1  The  Conspiracy  of  roiitiao,  Vol.  I.,  Cli.  X. 


1763I       Threatened  Attack  against  Detroit       487 

jiosiliDU.  Thia  will  Ix)  the  signal  ui'  atUu;k.  Tlie  t-hiefs  will 
spring  up  and  tire  upon  the  ntticers,  and  the  Indians  in  the 
street  'vill  fall  upun  the  garrisun.  Every  Knglishnian  will 
be  killed,  but  not  the  sealp  of  a  single  Frenchman  will  be 

touched. 

Such  is  the  story  told  iu  1708  to  the  traveller  (..'arver  at 
Detroit,  and  preserved  in  l«)cal  tradition,  but  not  sustained 
by  eonteuiix)rary  letters  or  diaries.  What  is  certain  is,  that 
Gladwyn  received  secret  infornmtion,  on  the  night  of  the 
sixth  of  May,  that  an  attempt  would  be  made  on  the  morrow 
to  capture  the  fort  by  treachery.  He  called  some  of  his 
otlicers,  and  told  them  what  he  had  heard.  Tlie  defences  of 
the  place  were  feeble  and  extensive,  and  the  garrison  by  far 
too  weak  to  repel  a  general  assault.  Tlie  force  of  the  Indians 
at  this  time  is  variously  estimated  at  from  six  hundred  to 
two  thousand;  and  the  commandant  greatly  feared  that 
some  wild  impulse  might  precipitate  their  plan,  and  that 
they  would  storm  the  fort  before  the  nK)rning,  Every 
preparation  was  made  to  meet  the  sudden  emergenc).  Half 
the  garrisiin  were  ordered  under  arms,  and  all  the  otticers 
prepared  to  spend  the  night  upon  the  ramparts. 

The  day  closed,  and  the  hues  of  sunset  faded.  Only  a 
dusky  redness  lingered  in  the  west,  and  the  darkening  earth 
seemed  her  dull  self  again.  Tlien  night  descended,  heavy 
and  black,  on  (he  fierce  Indians  and  tlie  sleepless  English. 
From  sunset  till  dawn,  an  anxious  wat(;h  was  kept  from  the 
slender  palisades  oi  Detroit.  The  soldiers  were  still  ignorant 
of  the  danger;  and  the  sentinels  did  not  know  why  their 
numbers  were  doubled,  or  why,  with  such  unwonted  vigi- 
lance, their  oiticers  rci>eatedly  vii^ited  their  posts.  Again 
and  again  Gladwyn  mounted  his  wooden  ramparts,  and 
looked  forth  into  the  gloom.     There  seemed  notliiug   but 


H 


1 


[tit'. 


nu. 


>ve 


488  The  Struggle  tor   i  Continent 

rt'iKise  1U1.I  i.uv  m  llu-  -nft,  n  u.t  Uii  -l  'ho  warn.  Hprii.« 
evening,  Willi  the  pipin}?  ..1'  frr.^^  aloiifr  'h^  riv.-  !  i.k,  j  1st 
nmswl  *H.iJi  their  toqK.r  by  tlu-  genia  mtlu  ■  .f  Ma\ 
Hut,  at  mUTvab,  as  the  night  wind  -^wepl  u.  n-ss  ll  ••  kv-slion, 
it  Lore  soumlH  -t  (ei^rful  portent  1'  the  .a.,  the  sniicn  '«»oiii. 
ing  -f  the  Inuiu;.  'Irum  aii  lie-  wiM  eh-  -  -f  i-i  iiig 
Ti'l'  .  as  the  warriors,  .1.  mm.  ,i-*"ir  >■  4ant  •  l>-tirt  -  lair  .hI 
tia-  war-'.laucu,  in  \  apar  lion  fv.r  ih  n.ono.v's  ork 
■  Tie  Trea  ;her  of  Pontiac  '  -  Th<-  .  igi  lasse u  itl. 
The  SUP  ruse  ui«>n  trcHh  !  chit,  ami  "vly  hu.M  -i- 
and  s'arifly  had  the  m.  min-'  v  i»tt.  iissolvc*':.  «! 
^nirrisou  couhl  set'  a  tleet  >     1  1      s  cr  ■  thi 

tn  111  the  eastern  shore,  wit         rau^Z''        camv.     aut 
ihe   fort.     Onl     two  <■    thn        am     :>  .    K-         m  eacli,  but 
all  moved     lovvl)     .nd    "emed  d -ei'  v  la  ler  truth,  they 

were  full  ot  savages,  lyui-  Hat  on    heir  lace.-    ihai  their  num- 
bers niij^ht  !iot  excite  tl   ■  susp    i..n  of  tli        nglish. 

At  an  early  h«    r  tli.    ..i^^n        anion  I  the  fort  was 

throuf^'ed  with     qiiaws.  ch.    Iren,  am:   warn,  id,  p    ne  naked, 
and  others  fan      licaily  arrayed  in  barbu    us  linery. 

All  seerneil  ret-  ss  ana  une.!  '  ,  moviu>..  alhtr  a  id  thither, 
m  appai  i  pieiT  1  n  tor  a  i"  leral  pirae  of  ball.  Many 
!  -1  hei'  danket  ,  were  seen  stalking 
!  lii  ig  lipnant  furtive  glances  uj»- 
i^  Ti:  1  wit!  an  ;t  of  assumed  indif- 
!!i  e  towanlh  lie  sate.  They  were  all 
admille^      for  (lladv  \  ,,  who,  in  th  ai  ce  at  least,  showed 

some  kii      ledge  of  Indian  characl.    .'hose  to  convince  his 
crafty  foe    hat,  t\v>     h  their  plot  was  delected,  their  hostility 

was  despised. 

y'-g  -v::  ile  gH  -^    =n  was  ordered  under  arms.     Sterling, 

^':    iJoDspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  I.,  Ch.  XI. 


till  war      rs,  -^ 
toward-      ;ie  Un 
wan  I        the  pal. 
fereiu  I .  'hey  woul^ 


1763I        Threatened  Attack  against  Detroit       489 

111  the  oilier  Kiigli.Hh  fur-tnulera,  c;l<>sed  tlunr  storehouses 
am.  urmt'<i  their  men,  and  all  in  cool  (  mfitlence  stood  wait- 
ing i^he  r  'Suit. 

Meanwhile,  Tontiac,  who  had  crossed  \s  h  the  canoes 
|i  )ni  'he  eastern  shore,  was  approarhin^  along  the  river  m.-ul, 
at  tl\(  .ad  of  his  sixty  chiefs,  all  ^ravt  inurchinjf  ir>  Indian 
lile.  A  (aimilian  settler,  nained  Ueuiifait,  liad  been  that 
nicrning  t  the  fort.  He  was  now  retnrninj?  homewards, 
an<l  as  h  'lieil  the  bridj^e  wliicli  led  «'ver  the  stream  then 
called  I'm  -  Creek,  he  saw  the  chiefs  in  the  act  of  crossing 
from  the  inlher  l«nk.  He  sKmmI  aside  to  give  them  room. 
As  the  las!  Indian  j^assed,  lU-aufail  recognized  him  as  an 
old  friend  and  associate.  The  savage  greet- d  him  with  the 
nsual  ej:  •idati<»n,  opene<l  for  an  instant  the  folds  of  his 
blanket,  ..isidosed  the  hidden  gun,  and.  with  an  emjihatic 
gesture  <      ails  the  fort,  indicated  the  jmrjKwe  to  which  he 

meaia         ^Pl'ly  i^- 

A  tck,  the  great  war-chief,  with  his  treaeherou.s 

follow  led  the  fort,  and  the  gateway  was  thronged 

with  till  '-;c  faces.     All  were  wrapped  to  the  throat  in 

colored  b-  ir.uets.     Some  were  crested  with  hawk,  eagle,  or 
raven  plumes ;  others  had  shaved  their  heads,  leaving  only 
the  fluttering  scaljvlock  on  the  crown;  while  others,  again, 
wore  their  long,  black  hair  flowing  loosely  at  their  backs,  or 
wildly  hanging  about  thei    brows  like  a  lion's  mane.     Their 
bold  yet  crafty  fe    ures,  their  cheeks  besmeared  with  ochre 
and  vermilion.  whin>  lead  and  soot,  their  keen,  deep-set  eves 
gleaming  in  their  sockets,  like  th' se  of  rattlesnaV 
them  an  aspect  grim,  uncouth,  and  horrible.     For 
part,  they  were  tall,  strong  men,  and  all  had  a  p 
ing  of  peculiar  statelines.s. 

As  Pontiac  ont.  red,  it  1-  said  that  he  started 


490  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  I1763 

deep  ejaculation  half  escaped  from  his  breast.    Well  might 
his  stoicism  faU,  for  at  a  glance  he  read  the  ruin  of  his  plot. 
On  either  hand,  within  the  gateway,  stood  ranks  of  soldiers 
and  hedges  of  glittering  steel.     The  swarthy  engage^  of  the 
fur-traders,  armed  to  the  teeth,  stood  in  groups  at  the  street 
r„rners,  and  the  measured  tap  of  a  .hum  fell  onnnously  on 
the  ear.     Soon  regaining  his  comiH.sure,  Pontiac  stnxle  for- 
ward into  the  narrow  street;  and  his  chiefs  tiled  after  hnn 
in  silence,  while  the  scared  faces  of  women  and  chddren 
looked  out  from  the  windows  as  they  passe.l.     Their  rigul 
nmscles  betrayed  no  sign  of  emotion;  yet.  h.oking  cl..sely, 
one  might  have  seen  their  small  eyes  glance  from  side  to 
side  with  restless  scrutiny. 

Traversuig  the  entire  width  <.f  the  little  town  they  reached 
the  door  of  the  council-house,  a  large  building  stan.ling  near 
the  margin  of  the  river.     On  entering,  they  saw  Gladwyn, 
with  several  of  his  otlicers,  seated  in  readiness  to  receive 
them  and  the  observant  chiefs  did  not  fail  to  remark  that 
everj'  Englishman  wore  a  sword  at  his  side,  and  a  pair  of 
pistols  in  his  belt.     The  conspirators  eyed  each  other  with 
uneasy  glances.     "  Why."  demanded  Pontiac.  «  do  I  see  so 
many  of  my  father's  young  men  standing  in  the  street   vith 
their  guns?"     Gladwyn  replied  through  his  interpreter.  La 
lUitte  that  he  had  ordered  tiie  soldiers  under  arms  for  the 
sake  of  exercise  and  discipline.    With  much  delay  and  many 
signs  of  distrust,  the  chiefs  at  length  sat  down  on  the  mats 
prepared  for  them,  and.  after  the  customary  pause,  Pontiac 
rose  to  speak.    Holding  in  his  hand  the  wampum  belt  which 
was  to  have  given  the  fatal  signal,  he  addressed  the  com- 
mandant, professing  strong  attachment  to  the  English,  and 
declaring,  in  Indian  phrase,  that  he  had  come  to  smoke  the 
pij^  of  iKjace,  and  brighten  the  chain  of  friendship.     The 


,.  .!) 


1763I       Threatened  Attack  against  Detroit       491 

olficers  watched  him  keenly  as  he  uttered  these  hollow 
words,  fearing  lest,  tliough  conscious  that  his  designs  were 
susiiected,  he  niiglit  still  attempt  to  accomplish  tliem.  And 
once,  it  is  said,  he  raised  the  wampum  belt  as  if  about 
to  give  the  signal  of  attack.  But  at  that  instant  Gladwyn 
signed  slightly  with  liis  hand.  Tlie  sudden  clash  of  arms 
si.unded  from  the  passage  without,  and  a  drum  r(»lling  the 
cliarge  filled  tlie  council-room  with  its  sttmnmg  din.  At 
this,  Pontiac  stood  like  one  confounded.  Some  writers  will 
have  it,  that  Gladwyn,  rising  from  his  seat,  drew  the  chief's 
blanket  aside,  exposed  tlie  Iiidden  gun,  and  sternly  rebuked 
him  for  his  treachery.  lUit  the  commandant  wished  only  to 
prevent  the  consummation  of  the  plot,  without  bringing  on 
an  open  rupture.  His  own  letters  aflirm  that  he  and  his 
ollicers  remained  seated  as  before.  Pontiac,  seeing  his  un- 
rulHed  brow  and  his  calm  eye  fixed  steadfastly  upon  him, 
knew  not  wliat  to  think,  and  soon  sat  down  in  amazement 
and  ix?rplexity.  Another  pause  ensued,  and  Gladwyn  com- 
menced a  brief  reply.  He  assured  the  chiefs  that  friendship 
and  protection  sliould  be  extended  towards  them  as  long  as 
tliey  continued  to  deserve  it,  but  threatened  ample  vengeance 
for  the  first  act  of  aggression.  The  council  then  l)roke  up; 
but,  before  leaving  the  room,  Pontiac  told  the  officers  that  lie 
would  return  in  a  few  days,  with  his  squaws  and  children, 
for  he  wished  that  tliey  should  all  shake  hands  with  their 
fathers  the  English.  To  this  new  piece  of  treachery  Glad- 
wyn deigned  no  reply.  The  gates  of  the  fort,  which  had 
been  closed  during  tlie  conference,  were  again  flung  o])en, 
and  the  l)alHed  savage.'--  were  suffered  to  depart,  rejoiced,  no 
doubt,  to  breathe  once  more  the  free  air  of  the  oj)en  fields. 


II 


111 


i' 


492 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


[1763 


THE  FTr.TIT  OF  r.L<M^PY  r.inDOE^ 

ruoM  the  time  when  peace  was  conclu.lea  with  the  Wyan- 
a.,ts  an.l  Vottawattan.ies  until  the  en.l  of  July.  lU   e  worth) 
of  notice  to,>k  place  at  Detn.it.     The  f..rt  wa.  stU  watche 
closely  bv  the  Otlawas  an.l  ( )jihwas,  who  alnu.st  .lady  assai  ed 
it  wilh  petty  attacks.     In  the  n,ean  time,  unknown  to  the 
.anison,  a  strong  ro-enforcenient  was  conung  to  their  aul. 
Captain  Dalzell  had  left  Niagara  with  twenty-two  barge 
hc'uing  two  hundred  and  eighty  n>en,  with  several  snmll 
cannon,  and  a  fresh  supply  of  provisions  and  anuuun.tum 

C;oasling  the  south  sh..re  .d  Lake  .:.>c,th  .  soon  reached 
rresnu'  Isle,  where  they  f..und  the  scorche<l  and  battered 
M.^khouse  captured  a  few  weeks  before  and  saw  wdh  sivr- 
,„,se  the  nunes  and  introncluuents  made   by  the   Ind  ans 
„  assailing  it.     Thenco,  p.roccedi..g  ..n  their  v.>yage     hey 
reached  S^.lusky  on  the  twenty-sixth  .i  ^^^^^^^ 
Ihov  nmrched  inland  to  the  neighboring  v.Uage  of  the  \V   an- 
,1..;,  which  they  burnt  to   the  gioun.l,  at  the  same  Ume 
destroving  the  corn,  which  this  tribe,  more  provulent   ha 
n,ost  of  the  others,  had  planted  there  in  the  spnng.     Pa  /.oil 
U,en  steered  northward  for  the  n.mth  T  the  Detroit,  wluch  he 
reached  on  the  evening  of  the  twen     -,•     dh.  and  cautiously 
ascende<l  under  cover  of  night.     ":.    ^  fortunate.'  writes 
Oladwvn,  «  that  they  were  not  discovere.l,  in  which  case  they 
,nust  have  been  destroyed  or  taken,  as  the  Indians,  being  em- 

1  Tlic  Conspiracy  of  Poiitiiii-.  Vol.  I..  Ch.  XV. 


1763]  The  Fight  of  Bloody  Bridge  493 

boldened  by  their  late  successes,  fight  much  better  than  we 
could  have  expected." 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-ninth,  the  whole  country 
around  Detroit  was  covered  by  a  sea  of  fog,  the  precursor  of 
a  hot  and  sultry  day ;  but  at  sunrise  its  surface  began  to 
heave  and  toss,  and,  parting  at  rvals,  disclosed  the  dark 
and  burnished  surface  of  the  ri\  er ;  then  ligiitly  rolling,  fold 
upon  fold,  the  mists  melted  rapidly  away,  the  last  remnant 
clinging  sluggishly  along  the  margin  of  the  forests.  Now, 
for  the  first  time,  the  ^sirrison  couM  discern  the  approaching 
convoy.  Still  they  remained  in  suspense,  fearing  lest  it 
might  have  met  the  fulc  of  the  former  detachment ;  but 
a  salute  from  the  fort  was  answered  by  a  swivel  from  the 
boats,  and  at  once  all  apprehension  passed  away.  The  con- 
voy soon  reached  a  point  in  the  river  midway  between  the 
villages  of  the  Wyandots  and  the  Pottawattamies.  About  a 
fortnight  before,  as  we  have  seen,  these  capricious  savages 
had  made  a  treaty  of  peace,  which  they  now  saw  fit  to  break, 
opening  a  hot  fire  upon  the  boats  from  either  bank.  It  was 
answered  by  swivels  and  musketry ;  but  before  the  short 
engagement  was  over,  fifteen  of  the  English  were  killed  or 
wounded.  This  danger  passed,  boat  after  boat  came  to  shore, 
and  landed  its  men  amid  the  choers  of  the  garrison.  The 
detachment  was  composed  of  soldiers  from  the  55th  and  80th 
Regiments,  with  twenty  independent  rangers,  commanded 
by  Major  Rogers  ;  and  as  the  barracks  in  the  place  were  too 
small  to  receive  them,  the_y  were  all  quartered  upon  the 
inhabitants. 

Scarcely  were  these  arrangements  made,  when  a  great 
smoke  was  seen  rising  from  the  Wyandot  village  across  the 
river,  and  the  inhabitants,  apparently  in  much  consternation, 
were  observed  paddliug  down  stream  with  their  household 


i  si 


f 


494  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1763 

uU-nsils,  and  even  tlu'ir  dojrs.  It  was  supposed  that  they 
had  abandoned  and  burned  tlieir  huts ;  but  in  truth,  it  was 
only  an  artiHce  of  these  Intiians,  who  had  set  tire  to  some 
old  canoes  and  other  refuse  piled  in  front  of  their  village, 
after  which  the  warriors,  having  concealed  the  women  and 
children,  returned  and  lay  in  ambush  ami.ug  the  buslies, 
lioping  to  lure  some  of  the  English  within  readi  of  their  guns. 
None  of  them,  however,  fell  into  the  snare. 

Captain  Dalzell  was  the  same  ollicor  who  was  the  com- 
])anion  of  Israel  Putnam  in  some  of  the  most  atlventurous 
jtassages  of  that  rough  veteran's  life;  but  more  recently  he 
liad  acted  as  aide-de-cuvmp  to  Sir  Jclfrey  Amherst.  On  tlie 
day  of  his  arrival,  he  had  a  conference  with  (lladvvyi\,  at  the 
(quarters  of  the  latter,  and  strongly  insisted  that  tlie  tiine 
was  come  when  an  irrecoverable  blow  might  be  struck  at  Pon- 
tiac.  lie  re(piested  yKjrmission  to  march  out  on  the  following 
night,  and  attack  the  Indian  camp.  Gladwyn,  better  ac- 
quainted with  the  position  of  affairs,  and  perhaps  more 
cautious  by  nature,  was  averse  to  the  attempt;  but  Dalzell 
urged  his  request  so  strenuously  that  the  commandant 
yielded  to  his  representations,  and  gave  a  tardy  consent. 

Pontiac  had  recently  removed  his  camp  from  its  old  po- 
sition near  the  mouth  of  Parent's  Creek,  and  was  now  posted 
several  miles  above,  behind  a  great  marsh,  which  protected 
the  Indian  huts  from  the  cannon  of  the  vessel.  On  the 
afternoon  of  the  thirtieth,  orders  were  issued  and  prepara- 
tions made  for  the  meditated  attack.  Through  the  inex- 
cusable carelessness  of  some  of  the  otlicers,  the  design  becar.ie 
known  to  a  few  Canadians,  the  bad  result  of  which  will 
apjiear  in  the  sequel. 

About  two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  thirty-first  t)f 
July,  the  gates  were  thrown  open  in  sLleuce.  and  the  detach- 


i7«3]  The  Fight  of  Bloody  Bridge  495 

ment,  two  hundred  and  lifLy  in  nunibor,  passed  noiselessly 
out.  They  filed  two  deep  along  the  road,  wliile  two  large 
bateaux,  each  bearing  a  swivel  on  the  bow,  rowed  up  the 
river  abreast  of  ihem.  Lieutenant  Brown  led  the  advance 
guard  of  twenty-five  men;  the  centre  was  commanded  by 
Captain  Ch-ay,  and  tlie  rear  by  Captain  Grant.  The  night 
was  still,  cl(-»se,  and  sultry,  and  the  men  marched  in  light 
undress.  On  their  right  was  the  dark  and  gleaming  surface 
of  the  river,  with  a  margin  of  sand  intervening,  and  on  their 
left  a  succession  of  Canadian  houses,  with  barns,  orchards, 
and  cornfields,  from  wlience  the  clamorous  barking  of  watch- 
dogs saluted  them  as  they  pas.sed.  Tlie  inhabitants,  roused 
from  sleep,  looked  from  the  windows  in  astonishment  and 
alarm.  An  old  man  has  told  the  writer  how,  when  a  child, 
he  climbed  on  the  roof  of  his  father's  house,  to  look  down 
on  the  gliTrnuering  bayonets,  and  how,  long  after  the  tro  ips 
had  passed,  their  heavy  and  measured  tramp  sounded  from 
afar,  through  the  still  night.  Thus  the  English  moved  for- 
ward to  the  attack,  little  thinking  that,  l)ehind  houses  and 
enclosures,  Indian  scouts  watched  every  yard  of  their  prog- 
ress —  little  suspecting  that  I'ontiac,  apprised  by  the  Cana- 
dians of  their  plan,  had  l)roken  uj*  his  camp,  and  was  coining 
against  them  with  all  his  warriors,  armed  and  painted  for 
battle. 

A  mile  and  a  half  from  the  fort.  Parent's  Creek,  ever  since 
that  night  calleil  Bloody  Run,  descended  through  a  wild  and 
rough  hollow,  and  entered  the  Detroit  amid  a  growth  of  rank 
grass  and  sedge.  Only  a  few  rods  from  its  mouth,  the  road 
crosseil  it  by  a  narrow  wooden  bridge,  not  existing  at  the 
present  day.  Just  beyond  this  bridge,  the  land  rose  in 
abrupt  ridges,  parallel  to  the  stream.  Along  their  .summits 
were  rude  intrenchments  made  by  Pontiac  to  protect  his 


496  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [.763 

camp,  which  had  formerly  occuincd  the  ground  immediately 
Te^Vul.  Here.  too.  were  many  piles  oMirewood  hol..gn,« 
to  the  Canadians,  besides  strong  picket  fences  enclo.  ng  o- 
chards  and  gardens  connected  with  the  neighburmg  house.. 
SI  fences.  wood-paes.and  intrenchments  croud.ed  an 
unknown  number  of  Indian  warriors  -th  ev^ U^a  ^^^^^^^^^ 
They  lay  sdent  as  snakes,  for  now  they  could  hear  the  d.s- 
tant  tramp  ..f  the  approaching  column. 

The  skv  was  overcast,  and  the  night  exceedmgly  dark 
As  the  English  drew  near  the  dangerous  pass,  tb.oy  could 
discern  the  oft-mentioned  house  of  Meloche  upon  a  rising 
ground  to  the  left,  while  in  front  the   bridge  was  dimly 
visible,   and   the   ridges   beyond   it  seemed   like  a  wall  of 
undistmguished  blackness.     They  pushed   rapidly   for^vard 
not   wholly  unsuspicious   of   danger.     The   advance   guard 
were  half  way  over  the  bridge,  and  the  main  body  just  enter- 
ing upon  it,  when  a  horrible  burst  of  yells  rose  in  their  front, 
and  the  Indian  guns  blazed   forth   in  a  general  discharge 
Half  the  advanced  party  were   shot   down ;    the  appalled 
survivors  shrank  back  aghast.     The  confusion  reached  even 
the  main  bo.lv,  and  the  wlude  recoiled  together  ;  but  Dalzell 
raised  his  cU>ar  voice  above  the  din,  advanced  to  the  front, 
rallied  the  men,  and  led  them  fon^'ard  to  the  attack.     Again 
the  Indians  iK,ured  in  their  volley,  and  again  the  English 
hesitated;  but  Dalzell  shouted  from  the  van,  and,  in  the 
nmdness  of  mingled  rage  and  fear,  they  charged  at  a  run 
across  the  bridge   and   up   the    heights  beyond     V.t  an 
Indian   was   there   to   oppose  them.     In   vain  the   furious 
...Idiers   sought  their  enemy  behind  fences  and    mtnnch- 
n,Hnls     The  active  savages  had  tle.l ;  yet  still  their  guns 
flashed  thick  thruugh  the  gloom,  and  their  war-cry  rose  with 
undiminished  clamor.     The  ICnglish  pushed   forward   nnnd 


1763]  The  Fi^jlit  of  BK)oHy  Bridge  497 

tlie  piU'liy  tlmkness,  ijuitu  ij^aomiiL  t)i  tliuir  way,  and  sojin 
bocafue  ijivoivetl  in  u  inuzu  of  oul-houses  anil  entlusures. 
Al  every  iiaudc  *l  '  niaile,  the  retiring  enemy  would  gather 
to  renew  liie  i.  ,  tiring  buck  hotly  upon  the  front  and 

flanks.  To  au  u,  .  farther  would  lie  useless,  and  the 
only  alleinative  was  to  withilraw  and  wait  for  daylight. 
Caplain  (Jrant,  with  his  conipany,  recnjssed  the  bridge,  and 
took  up  his  station  on  the  road.  The  rest  followed,  a  small 
inirty  remaining  to  hold  the  enemy  in  check  while  the  dead 
and  wounded  were  placed  on  lioard  tlie  two  bateaux  which 
had  rowed  uj*  t<t  the  bridge  during  the  action.  This  task 
was  commenced  amid  a  sharp  lire  from  both  sides;  and 
before  it  was  completed,  heavy  volleys  were  heard  from  tlie 
rear,  where  Captain  tirant  was  stationed.  A  great  force  of 
Indians  had  tired  upon  him  from  the  house  of  Meloche  and 
the  neighboring  orchards.  Grant  pushed  up  the  hill,  and 
drove  them  from  the  orchards  at  the  pomt  of  the  bayonet, — 
drove  them,  also,  from  the  house,  and,  ent  ring  it,  found  two 
Canadians  within.  These  men  told  him  that  the  Indians 
were  bent  on  cutting  off  the  English  from  the  fort,  and  that 
they  had  gone  in  gieat  numbers  to  occupy  the  houses  which 
commanded  the  road  below.  It  was  now  evident  that  instant 
retreat  was  necessary ;  and  the  command  being  issued  to  that 
elloct,  the  men  fell  back  into  marchnig  order,  aii'l  slowly 
began  their  retrograde  movement.  (Jrant  was  now  in  the 
van,  and  I  )alzell  at  the  rear.  Some  of  the  Indians  followed, 
keeping  up  a  scattering  and  distant  fire ;  and  from  time  to 
time  the  rear  faced  about,  to  throw  back  a  v<tlley  of  mus- 
ketry at  the  pursuers.  Having  proceeded  in  this  manner  for 
half  a  mile,  they  reached  a  point  where,  close  upon  the  right 
were  many  barns  and  out- houses,  with  strong  picket  fences. 
Beliiud  these,  and  in  a  newly  dug  cellar  close  at  hand,  lay 

32 


498  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  [1763 

c<»nccaKMl  a  jireal  iiiultiluae  *.f  Iiuliaiis.     They  suttered  the 
a.lvanml  party  U>  i>ass  unmolested;  but   wlien  llu;  centre 
and  rear  came  upiK.site  their  ambusca»le,  they  raised  a  fright- 
ful yell,  and  iKnued  a  volley  amonj?  them.     The  men  had 
well-nigh  fallen  into  a  panic.     The  river  ran  close  on  their 
left,  and  iho  only  avenue  of  «'scai)e  lay  along  the  n^ad  in 
front,     r.reaking  their  ranks,  they  crowded  upon  one  another 
in  blind  eagerness  to  escape  the  storm  of  bullets ;  and  but 
f,.r   the   presence  of    Dalzell,  the  retreat  would  have  been 
turned  into  a  flight.     "  The  enemy,"  writer'  un  otlicer  who  was 
in  the  tight,  "  marked  him  for  his  extraordinary  bravery  ; " 
and  he  had  already  received  two  severe  wounds.     Yet  his 
exertions   did  not   slacken   for  a   moment.     Some   of  the 
soldiers  he  rebuked,  some  he  threatened,  and  some  he  beat 
with  the  flat  of  his  sword;  till  at  length  order  was  partially 
restored,  and  the  fire  of  the  enemy   returned  with   eflect. 
Though  it  was  near  daybreak,  the  dawu  was  obscured  by  a 
thick  fog,  and  little  could  be  seen  of  the  Indians,  except  the 
incessant  flashes  of  their  guns  amid  the  mist,  while  hundreds 
of  voices,  mingled  in  one  appalling  jell,  confused  the  facul- 
ties of  the  men,  and  drowned  the  shout  of  command.     The 
enemy  had  taken  possession  of  a  house,  hum  the  windows 
of  wh'ich  they  fired  down  up<m  the  English.     IMajor  Rogers, 
with  some  of  his  provincial  rangers,  burst  the  door  with  an 
axe,   rushed    "n,  and    expelled  them.     Captain   Gray   was 
ordered  to  di.'   .dge  a  large  party  from  behind  some  neighbor- 
ing fences.     He  charged   them  with  his  company,  but  fell, 
mortally  woun.led,  in  the  attc-mpt.     They  gave  way,  how- 
ever; and  now,  the  fire  of  the  Indians  being  nmch  dimin- 
ished, the  retreat  was  resumed.     Xo  sooner  had   the  men 
faced  about,  than  the  savages  came  darting  through  the  mist 
upon  their  flank  and  rear,  cutting  down  stragglers,  and  scalp- 


i76j]  The  Fight  of  Bloody  Bridge  499 

ing  the  fallen.  At  a  little  distance  lay  a  sergeant  of  the 
r>r>th,  heli>lessly  wounded,  raising  himself  on  his  hands,  and 
gazing  with  a  look  of  despair  after  his  retiring  comrades. 
The  sight  caught  the  eye  of  Dalzell,  Tliat  gallant  soldier, 
in  the  true  spirit  of  heroism,  ran  out,  amid  I  lie  tiring,  to 
rescue  the  wounded  man,  when  a  shot  struck  him,  and  he 
fell  dead.  Few  observed  his  late,  and  none  durst  turn  back 
to  recover  his  body.  The  detachment  pressed  on,  greatly 
harassed  by  the  pursuing  Indians.  Their  loss  would  have 
been  much  more  severe,  had  not  Major  Rogers  taken  posses- 
sion of  another  house,  which  commanded  the  road,  and 
covered  the  retreat  of  the  party. 

He  entered  it  with  some  of  his  own  men,  while  many 
panic-stricken  regulars  broke  in  after  him,  in  their  eagerness 
U)  gain  a  temporarj-   shelter.    The  house  was  a  large  and 
strong  one,  and  the  women  of  the  neighborhood  had  crowded 
into  the  cellar  for  refuge.     While  some  of  the  soldiers  looked 
in  blind  terror  for  a  place  of  concealment,  others  seized  upon 
a  keg  of  whiskey  in  one  of  the  rooms,  and  quaffed  the  liquor 
with  eager  thirst;  while  others,  again,  piled  packs  of  furs, 
furniture,  and  all  else  within  their  reach,  against  the  win- 
dows, to  serve  as  a  barricade.     Panting  and  breathless,  their 
faces  moist  with  sweat  and  blackened  witli  gunpowder,  they 
thrust  their   muskets  through   the  openings,  and   fired  out 
uiTon  the  whooping   assailants.     At  intervals,  a  bullet  flew 
sharply  whizzing  through  a  crevice,  striking  down  a  man, 
perchance,   or  rapping    harmlessl      against  the    partitions. 
Old  Campau,  the  master  of  the  house,  stood  on  a  trap^ioor  to 
prevent  the  frightened  soldiers  from  seeking  shelter  among 
tlie  women  in  the  cellar.     A  ball  grazed  his  gray  head,  and 
buried  itself  in  the  wall,  where  a  few  years  since  it  might 
still  have  been  seen.     The  screams  of  the  half-stifled  women 


500 


The  Struggle  for  a  Continent 


[1763 


I  i 


U'low.tlu'  4Uiive.in«  wui-wh.K.i.«  without,  thf  shouts  uiul 
curses  of  the  sulcli.-rs,  iniuj.Me.1  in  ii  M-ene  uf  clamorous  co.i- 
fusion.  ami  it  was  long  hofore  the  authority  of  Itogers  could 

restore  onler. 

In  the  mean  time.  Captain  (Irani,  with  his  aavauce.1  parly. 
ha.l  moved  forward  ahout  half  a  mile,  wliere  he  f<.und  some 
orchards  ami  enclosures,  by  means  of  which  he  couid  luam- 
tain  himself  until  the  centre  and  rear  should  arrive.     From 
this  point  he  detached  all  the  n.cn  he  couhl  spaie  to   .-ecui^y 
the  houses  below;  and  as  soldiers  soon  bt-an  to  come  m 
from  the   rear,  he  was  enabled  to  re-enforce  thesi-  .leta.-h- 
raents,  until  a  .omplelc  line  of  ron.municalion  was  e.-lab- 
lished  with   the    fort,  and    tlie   retreat   ellectually    secured. 
Within  an  liour.lhe  whole  party  had  arrive.l,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  llogers  aiul  his  men,  who  were  quite  unable  t^  come  oft, 
being  besieged  in  the  lu.use  of  Camiau,  by  full  two  hundred 
Indians.     The  two  armed  bateau.x  luul  gone  down  to  the  f..rt, 
laden  with  the  dead  and  wounded.     They  now  returne»l,  and. 
in  obedience  io  an  order  from  drant,  proceeded  up.  the  river 
to  a  point  opiK)site  Campau's  house,  where  they  oiKjned  a  fire 
of  swivels,  which  swept  the  ground  above  and  beb.w  it,  and 
completely  scattered  the  assailants.     Rogers  and  his  party 
now  came  out,  and  marched  down  the  road,  to  unite  them 
selves  with   Grant.     The   two  bateaux   accompanied  them 
closely,  and,  by  a  constant  tire,  restrained  the  Indians  from 
makmg  an  attack.     Scarcely  had  liogers  left  the  house  at 
one  door,  when  the  enemy  entered  it  at  another,  to  obtain 
the  scalps  from  two  or  three  corpses  left  behind.     Foremost 
of  them  all,  a  withered  old  squaw  rushed  in,  with  a  shrill 
scream,  and,  slashing  oi)en  t)ne  of  the  dead  bodies  with  her 
knife,  scooped  up  the  blood  between  her  hands,  and  quaffed 
it  with  a  ferocious  ecstasy. 


i7«3l  The  Fight  of  Hloody  Bridge  501 

(Jiunt  n'siiiiKHl  lii.s  iviifal  us  hikui  as  IJu^^ers  had  arrived, 
falliiiir  back  from  house  to  lioiisc,  joiiicil  in  succossiou  by 
the  jKirtit's  si-iit  lo  {jarrison  eath.  The  Indians,  in  ^Toat 
nunibt'rs,  stood  whooplnj^  and  yt'Uirijj,  al  a  vain  distance, 
unable  to  make  an  attack,  so  well  diti  (Jrant  choose  his  jiosi- 
ti»>ns,  and  s<t  steadily  and  coolly  conduct  tlie  retreat.  Altout 
eij,'ht  o'clt>ck,  alter  six  hours  of  marchinj^  and  combat,  the 
dclachment  entered  oiujc  more  within  the  shelterinj^  jiali- 
sades  of  Detroit. 

In  this  action,  the  Knglish  lost  tifty-nine  men  killed  and 
wounded.  The  loss  of  the  Indians  could  not  be  ascertained, 
but  it  eerlaiidy  ditl  n<it  exceed  lifteen  or  twenty.  At  the 
be<;innin^  of  the  ti^lil,  their  nuiidiers  were  proitably  much 
inferior  to  those  of  the  Enj^lish;  but  fresh  {larties  were  con- 
tinually joining  them,  until  seven  or  eiffht  hundred  waniora 
must  liavc  been  present. 

The  ( )jibwas  and  Ottawas  alone  formed  the  ambuscade  at 
the  bridge,  under  Pontiac's  commantl ;  for  the  Wyandots 
and  Potlawattamies  came  later  to  the  scene  of  action,  cross- 
ing the  rivei  in  their  canoes,  or  passing  round  through  the 
woods  behind  the  fort,  to  take  part  in  the  fray. 

In  sjteaking  of  the  fight  of  Bloody  Bridge,  an  able  writer 
in  the  Annual  Register  f(jr  the  year  17G3  observes,  with 
justice,  that  although  in  European  warfare  it  would  be 
deemed  a  mere  skirmish,  yet  in  a  conflict  with  the  Ameri- 
can savages,  i;  rises  to  the  importance  of  a  pitched  battle; 
since  these  people,  beuig  thinly  scattered  over  a  great  extent 
of  coimtry,  are  accustomed  to  conduct  their  warfare  by  de- 
tail, and  never  take  the  field  in  any  great  force. 

The  Indians  were  greatly  elated  by  their  success.  Runners 
were  sent  out  for  several  hundred  nules,  through  the  surround- 
ing woods,  to  spread  tidings  of  the  victory ;  and  rc-euforce- 
ments  soon  began  to  come  in  to  swell  the  force  of  Pontiac. 


502  The  Struggle  for  a  C\)iUincnt 


[1763 


I 


m 


TlIK   CLnSlNd    KVKXTS   oK   THK   INDIAN 
WAlt.     17G3-17tl4 

[l'.,NTIAC  aircaed  in  iK-rsuu  the  su-o  ..f  Detroit.'  Ilavin- 
failed  in  his  Ireiiehenuis  utteiMpt  to  eui.t'uv  ihe  fort  l.y  sur- 
prise, the  Indian  chief  withdrew  to  his  village,  enru^'.-.l  and 
niurtitied  yet  still  resolved  to  persevere.  Such  was  his  prestige 
among  his  followers  that  he  was  aide  to  hold  the  fortress 
closely  besieged  fn,m  May  ui.lil  Hctolur.  when  the  rumor  of 
reenforeements  from  the  Kast  huluced  the  majority  .•:■  sue 

for  peace.  .      „ 

"If  one  is  disposed  to  think  slightingly  of  the  warriors 
whose  numbers  coul.l  avail  so  lililo  against  a  handful  ..f  half- 
starved  English  and  provincials."  .ays  Parkmau.^  "he  has  only 
to  recollect  that  where  barbarism  has  been  armye.l  against 
civilization,  disorder  against  discipline,  and  ungoverncd  lury 
against  considerate  valor,  such  has  seldom  failed  to  be  the 

result.  ,11 

"At  the  siege  of  Detroit,  the  Indians  displayed  a  high  de- 
gree of  comparative  steadiness  and  per  everance ;  and  then- 
history  cannot  furnish  am.ther  instance  of  so  large  a  force 
persisting  so  long  in  the  attack  of  a  fortified  place.  Then- 
good  conduct  may  be  ascribed  to  their  deep  ra^'o  against  the 
English,  t..  their  hope  of  speedy  aid  from  the    French,  and 

.  Detroit  ^va.s  not  entirely  relicv.-d  until  the  arrival  of  Clou.l  Bradstreet  in 

September,  1764. 

«  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  1.,  Ch.  AlV. 


i7«3]       Closiii  4  Events  (if  the  iiicliuii  War         ^03 

to  the  cojjiroUit  .^  »|iiiil  tpf  IVmliue,  wlin  !i  litiii  tin  m  tt»  their 
w.»ik.  The  Im.  an  is  hul  ill  <iuuli!'  d  lur  suili  utleiiipta, 
hiiviii};  loi>  imicli  rauliiiii  it  uu  Ubsuull  b^  siunu,  uiul  Luo 
little  |iatieu(;e  f'ira  blockaile." 

I'lmtiac's  enerj^ii  s  were  iini,  liowi-ver,  ioiitiiieil  u>  llelmil. 
His  plans  enibracfl  a  larger  lielil  of  coiiq  :i'sl,  and  llie  siej^e 
of  DelroiL  wom  only  ;m  incident  in  the  sii  iiitanc  ais  suiiM'i»e 
of  all  the  Ikitish  forts  in  the  Western  and  Ohio  country. 
Within  six  weeks  all  these  foris  had  been  jUacked  and 
destroyed  by  the  IiidiuJis, save 
Fort  Pitt,  the  fort  at  Green 
r>ay,  which  was  abandoned, 
and  the  fort  at  Ligonier.  The 
hai)less  ganisons  suffered  all 
the  horrors  of  torture,  nias- 
.  ;re,  and  cannibalism,  and 
<•  vastation  raged  along  the 
defenceless  fronli'Ji.  r>y  Au- 
gust, 1763,  tlie  siw'iatMm  was 
so  serious  tluM  Tolouel  Bou- 
fiuet  was  li  iiai  ;tied  by  Sir 
Jeffrey  Amherst  to  the  reliof 
of  Fort  Jv.t,  which  was  threat-  ^"'^  -^-^"^  "'"'''''' 

ened  with  the  disaster  that  had  befallen  the  remoter  p -sts. 
Their  advance  was  painful  and  fraught  with  peril.  When 
still  about  twenty-five  miles  from  their  goal,  they  fell  into 
'\n  ambuscade  of  Indians.  —  Ed.] 


11: 


he  Battle  of  Bushy  Ron.*  —  The  condition  of  Bouquet's  un- 
happy men  might  well  awaken  sympathy.  About  sixty 
soldiers,   besides    several  officers,  had  been   killoil   or  dis- 

»  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  Vol.  11.,  Cli.  XX. 


U  f-- 


504  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  (1763 

altlf.!.  A  siiace  in  the  centre  of  the  eanij)  was  itiepared 
fur  the  ivcei»tiun  of  the  wounded,  and  surrounded  \>y  a 
wall  of  flour-ba^'s  from  the  convoy,  all'ordinj,'  soine  protec- 
tion a<?ainst  the  bullets  which  Hew  from  all  sides  duiinj,' 
the  tight.  Here  they  lay  upon  the  ground,  enduring  agonies 
of  thirst,  and  waiting,  passive  and  helpless,  the  issue  of 
tlie  battle.  Deiuived  of  the  anijuating  lliought  that 
their  live^  and  safety  depended  on  their  own  e.\ertii>ns; 
surrounded  by  a  wilderness,  and  by  .scenes  to  the  horror  of 
which  no  degree  of  familiarity  could  render  the  imagination 
callous,  they  must  have  endured  mental  sMflering.s,  compared 
to  which  the  pain  of  their  wounds  was  slight.  In  the  jirob- 
able  event  of  defeat,  a  fate  ine.vpressildy  horrible  awaited 
them;  while  even  victory  would  not  ensure  their  safety, 
since  any  great  hicrease  in  their  numbers  would  render  it 
impossible  for  their  comrades  to  transport  them.  Nor  was 
the  condition  of  those  who  had  hitherto  escaped  an  enviable 
one.  Though  they  were  about  eijual  in  uumbpi  to  their 
assailants,  yet  the  dexterity  and  alertness  of  the  Indians, 
jt)ined  to  the  nature  of  the  country,  gave  all  the  advantages 
of  a  greatly  superior  force.  The  enemy  were,  moreover, 
exulting  in  the  fullest  confidence  of  success ;  for  it  was  in 
these  very  forests  that,  e;Tfht  years  before,  they  had  nearly 
destroyed  twice  tl'eir  number  of  the  best  Ilritish  troops. 
Throughout  the  earlier  part  of  the  niglit,  they  kept  up  a 
dropping  fire  upon  the  camp;  while,  at  short  intervals,  a 
wild  whoop  from  the  thick  surroiuiding  gloom  told  with 
what  fierce  eagerness  they  waited  to  glut  their  vengeance  on 
the  morrow.  The  camp  remained  in  daikness,  for  it  would 
have  been  dangerous  to  build  fires  within  its  precincts,  to 
direct  the  aim  of  the  lurking  marksmen.  Surrounded  by 
such  terrors,  the  men  snatched  a  disturbed  and  broken  sleep. 


1763I       Closing  Events  of  the  Indian  War        505 

recruiting  tlieir  exhausted  strength  for  the  renewed  struggle 
of  the  morning. 

With  tlie  earliest  dawn  of  day,  and  while  the  damp,  coul 
forest  was  still  involved  in  twilight,  there  rose  around  the 
camp  a  general  burst  of  those  horrible  cries  which  form  the 
ordinary  prelude  of  an  Indian  battle.  Instantly,  from  ever)- 
side  at  once,  the  enemy  opened  their  fire,  approaching  under 
cover  of  the  trees  and  bushes,  and  levelling  with  a  close 
and  deadly  aim.  Often,  as  on  the  previous  day,  they  would 
rush  up  with  furious  impetuosity,  striving  to  break  into  the 
ring  of  troops.  They  were  repulsed  at  every  point ;  but  the 
British,  though  constantly  victorious,  were  beset  with  undimin- 
ished perils,  while  the  violence  of  the  enemy  seemed  every 
moment  on  the  increase.  True  to  their  favorite  tactics,  they 
would  never  stand  their  ground  when  attacked,  but  vanish 
at  the  first  gleam  of  the  levelled  bayonet,  only  to  appear 
again  the  moment  the  danger  was  past.  The  troops,  fatigued 
by  the  long  march  and  equally  long  battle  of  the  previous 
daj',  were  maddened  by  the  torments  of  thirst,  "  more  intol- 
eratie,"  says  their  commander,  "than  the  enemy's  fire." 
They  were  fully  conscious  of  the  peril  in  which  they  stood, 
of  wasting  away  by  slow  degrees  beneath  the  shot  of  as- 
sailants at  once  so  daring,  so  cautious,  and  so  active,  and 
upon  whom  it  was  impossible  to  inflict  any  decisive  injur}'. 
The  Indians  saw  their  distress,  and  pressed  them  closer  and 
closer,  redoubling  their  j-ells  and  bowlings ;  while  some  of 
them,  sheltered  behind  trees,  assaUed  the  troops,  in  bad 
English,  with  abuse  and  d  vision. 

Meanwhile  the  interior  of  the  camp  was  a  scene  of  con- 
fusion. The  horses,  secured  in  a  crowd  near  the  wall  of 
flour-bags  wliich  covered  the  wounded,  were  often  struck  by 
the   bullets,  and    wrought   to  the  height  of   terror   by   the 


5o6  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  ['76.1 

mingled  din  of  whocps  shrieks,  and  iirir.^'.  They  would 
break  awav  by  half  scores  al  a  time,  burst  through  the 
ring  of  troops  and  the  outer  circle  of  assailants,  and  scour 
madly  up  and  down  the  hill-sides ;  while  many  of  the  drivers, 
overcome  by  the  terrors  of  a  scene  in  wliir'.  they  could  bear 
no  active  part,  hid  theraselven  among  th  •  l.u«^hes,  and  could 
neither  hear  nor  ol»ey  orders. 

It  was  now  about  ten  o'clock.     Oppressed  with  heat,  fa- 
tigue, and   thirst,  the  distressed  tn.ops  still   iuaintaine.l  a 
weary  and  wavering  defence,  encircling  the  convoy  in  a  yet 
unbroken  ring.     They  were  fast  falling  in  their  ranks,  and 
the  strength  and  spirits  of  tl«J  survivors  had  begun  to  Hag. 
If  the  fortunes  of  the  day  were  to  be  retrieved,  the  efTort 
must  1.6  made  at  once;  and  happily  the  mind  of  the  com- 
mander was  equal  to  the  emergency.     In  the  nndst  of  the 
c.nfusion   he  conceived  a  masterly  stratagem.     Could  the 
Indians  be  brought  together  in  a  body,  and  made  to  stand 
their  ground  when  attacked,  there  could  be  little  doubt  of 
the  result;  and,  to  effect  this  object,  Bou.iuet  determined  to 
increase  their  conHdence,  which  had  already  mounted  to  an 
audacious  pitch.     Two  companies  of  infantry,  fonmng  a  part 
of  the  ring  which  had  been  exi>osed  to  the  hottest  fire,  were 
or.lered  to  fall  back  into  the  interior  of  the  camp;  while  the 
troops  on  either  haiul  joined  their  files  across  the  vacant 
space   as  if  to  cover  the  retreat  of  their  comrades.     These 
orders  given   at  a  favorable  moment,  were  executed  will. 
great  pron.ptness.     The  thin  line  of  troops  who  t..ok  ih.sscs- 
sion  of  the  deserted  part  of  the  circle  were,  from  their  small 
numb,-rs.  brought  closer  in  towards  the  centre.     The  Indians 
nust.Mk  these  ,n..vc„u.nls  for  a  retreat.     Confident  that  their 
time  was  come,  ll.cv  Icap-d  up  on  all  si.lcs.  from  behind  the 
trees  and   buslu's.  and  with  inf.rnal  scree,  hes,  rushed  head- 


1763]         Closing  Fvmts  of  the  Indi  in  War       507 

long  towarils  the  spot,  jjoiwinf  in  a  heavy  and  galling  lire. 
The  shock  was  too  violent  &o  fae  long  endured.  Tlie  men 
struggled  Lo  maintain  their  pe^tis ;  but  the  Indiati.s  seemed 
on  the  point  of  lireaking  into  the  heart  of  th.e  camp,  when 
the  asj)ect  of  affairs  was  suddenly  reversed.  The  twi)  com- 
jianies.  who  had  a])parently  altandoned  their  position,  were 
in  fact  ilestined  to  begin  the  attack  ;  and  tht'v  nnw  sallied 
out  from  the  civcle  iit  a  j^Mjini  where  a  dt»pression  in  the 
ground,  joined  to  the  ihic^k  growth  of  trees,  corK-ealed  ilicni 
from  the  eyes  of  tlie  Indians.  Making  a  ^liort  ih'i,,ur 
througli  llie  woods,  ihey  came  round  upon  the  tiank  of  the 
furious  assailants,  .ind  iired  a  close  volley  iut*'  the  midst  of 
the  crowd.  Numbers  were  seen  to  fall;  yet  'hough  com- 
pletely surprised,  and  utterly  at  a  \o9»  to  u^^l^'-stand  the 
nature  of  the  attack,  the  Indians  faced  al>out  with  #ie  great- 
est intrepidity,  and  returned  tlic  fire.  But  tdve  Higfiianders, 
with  yells  as  wild  as  their  ow.i,  fell  on  them  u'itli  the  bayo- 
net. The  sliock  was  irre.^istiltlc,  and  they  lied  before  the 
cliarging  ranks  in  a  tuii!ultuo?is  thnmg.  Orders  liad  heen 
given  to  two  other  comjjanies,  occupying  a  contiguous  part  of 
the  circle,  to  supjKirt  the  attack  whenever  a  favorable  mo- 
ment should  occur ;  and  they  liad  therefore  advanced  a  little 
from  their  position,  and  lay  dose  crouched  in  ambush.  The 
fugitives,  pres.sed  by  the  Highland  bayonets,  passed  directly 
across  their  front;  u})on  whi-h  they  rose,  and  poured  among 
them  a  .second  volley,  n(j  less  destructive  than  the  first. 
This  completed  the  rout.  The  four  companies,  uniting,  drove 
the  flying  savages  througli  the  woods,  giving  them  no  time 
to  rally  or  reload  their  empty  rifles,  killing  many,  and  scat- 
tering the  rest  in  hoi»eless  c<mfusi(jn. 

While  this  'ook  place  at  one  part  of  the  circle,  the  troops 
and  the  savages  had  .still  maintained  their  respective  iK)si- 


:i* 


ill 


1 


50S  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  {'■fi^ 

,i„„  „t  the  ..ther;  Imt  when  the  hlUT  ,.-rceive.l  the  told 
„„  „,  i,,.i,-  .,.,„ra,le,,  .'.l  >=»«-  "'«  »""V-  »'>va"»>"8  '" 
,        11,  \mA   iiiul  lleii.    The  ilisG..r.tant 
ussail  them,  thry  als"  l.»t  lunit,  .iiw  111 
outcries  which  had  s„  hmi;  .leate.te.l  the  ea«  ..f  the  Knpl,»h 
::    Teasel  a,t..et,.er,  a,„i  .ft  a  livin,  '"f-  -J-^ 
„ear  the  s,..t.    Al.mt  sixty  cori^es  lay  scatterc.1  over  tlu 
;:,  ,.     A,„..n«  .hen,  were  f..u„.l  those  ,     -en^  V-.m,,- 
^.,a  chicts.  while  the  Wood  which  sta.ne.l  the  leav  s  of    he 
r,l,  shove.!  that  ,„„..hers  ha.l   lle.1  wouo.le.l    jo,„    he 
!,,     The  sohliet.  t,..k  l.„t  o„e  ,riso„er,  whom  they  shot 

'Lth  l,.-e  a  ca,,tlve  woU.    The  loss  of  the  linttsh  u, 
,„,,  littles  s.,,ass.,l  that  of  the  enemy,  amounttng  to  etght 
oHicers  an.l  one  huu.li  ,-d  and  fifteen  men. 

Ha"  ng  Wen  for  sonte  time  detained  hy  the  necesstty  o 
.Jkn,,.  Ler.  for  the  wonnded,  and  destr.n,n.  the  s  ores 
which    he  flight  of  tnost  of  the  horses  made  tt  .m,..ss,Ue  to 
„..  the  army  tnovcd  on,  in  the  atter-on.  to  Br,  hy 
U,n     Here  thev  had  scarcely  forn,e.l  their  cam,.,when  the; 
lere  a,.in  fired  n,,o.r  by  a  V..xly  of  Indians,  who,  however 
"ere  s  ,on  reused.    On  the  .rest  day  they  resumed  the 
,,„«^»  towards  Fort  Pitt,  distant  al-.nt  twetrty-hve  nnlt. 
,  ,d  though  fr...,nently  annoyed  on  the  n.arch  by  ,^tty  at- 
t    he;  reached  their  destination,  on  the  tenth,  w.thou 
"rious  his.     It  was  a  joytnl  moment  both  to  the  tr,.ts  - 

■    „      Tl,o  litter  it  will  l>e  remeinbennl,  were  li'lt 
l()  the  "•^rnson.      i  ne  liiiii  r,  il  « '"  ,11 

1.1  ,nd  Imtlv  prosed  hv  the  Tndian.s.  wl,o  had  he- 
surrounded   anit  lioll>   l>u   . .         .  .   ,  .,       f    l.,lv  to  the 

Icamrercd  the  vla'-e  tr.m.  the  twctny-e.shlh  "t  -Inl;  to  th. 

istTAnJ,  when,  hearing  of  IV.n.fnefs  a,pr.«ch,  they 

:L:,ed  the  .siege.  „,,dn,ar,.hcd..,attac^  hi,,,.        ■■.™ 

,„i,  .i,„c.  the  ga,rison  ha.l  seen  ....thing  ..t  th,.,n  .ntd  th 

„„,in.-  of  th..  t..n.h.  when.  sh..,.ly  b..f..re  the  army     ,.- 

,l,"th..vha.l,.a-.l -be ''«  "■»••"'>••  ™'"'"""'^''"'- 


1763]       Closing  Events  of  the  Indian  War        509 

yell,  and  displaying  their  disgusting  trophies  to  the  vie*'  of 
the  English. 

The  battle  of  Bushy  Run  was  one  of  the  heM,  contested 
acti(jns  ever  fought  lu'tween  white  men  and  Indians.  If 
there  was  any  di.s]iarity  of  numbers,  the  advantage  was  on 
the  side  of  the  troops ;  and  the  Indians  had  displayed 
throughout  a  fierceness  and  intrepidity  matched  only  by  the 
steady  valor  witli  which  they  were  met.  In  the  provinces, 
the  victory  exciteti  ectual  joy  and  admiration,  especially 
among  those  who  knew  the  int^bulable  ditti<'ukies  of  an 
Indian  campaign.  Thf  Assembly  of  Pennsyh  ;inia  passed  a 
vote  exi>ressing  iWir  sense  of  the  merits  of  Boucjaet,  aod  of 
the  .service  be  had  rendered  tn  thi-  province.  He  soon  after 
received  the  additional  hon<^  of  the  formal  thanks  of  the 
king. 

In  many  an  Indian  village,  the  women  cut  away  n»eir 
hair,  gashed  their  limbs  with  knives,  and  uttered  their  <iis- 
mal  bowlings  of  lamentation  for  the  fallen.  Yet.  tho^jh 
suryirised  and  dispirited,  the  rage  of  the  Indians  was  too  dt«^ 
to  be  ([uenched,  even  by  so  signal  a  reverse ;  and  their  ma- 
rages  upon  the  frontier  were  resumed  with  unabated  fero«ty. 
Fort  Pitt,  however,  was  effectually  relieved  ;  while  the  moai 
effect  of  the  victory  enabled  the  frontier  settlers  to  encounter 
the  enemy  with  a  spirit  which  would  have  l>een  wanting,  had 
Bouquet  sustained  a  defeat. 


510  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  t»7C3 


1  "I 

!t1 


I 


INCIDENTS  OF  THE  FRONTIER » 

Some  time  after  the  Initcliery  at  (Jlendenniiifj'.s  house,  an 
(lutrajje  was  ])eriietratetl,uii matched,  in  its  lieiul-like  atrocity, 
throujfh  all  tlu;  annals  of  the  war.  In  a  solitary  place,  «leei> 
within  the  settled  limits  of  IVnnsylvania,  .stood  a  small 
school-house,  one  of  those  rude  .structures  of  logs  which,  to 
this  day,  may  be  seen  in  some  of  the  remote  northern  dis- 
tricts of  New  England.  A  man  chancing  to  pass  l>y  was 
struck  by  the  unwonted  silence  ;  and,  pushing  open  the  door, 
he  looked  in.  In  the  centre  lay  the  master,  scali)ed  antl  life- 
less, with  a  15i])le  cla-sjied  in  his  hand;  while  antund  the 
room  were  strewn  the  b(Klies  of  his  pupils,  nine  in  numlter, 
miserably  mangled,  though  one  of  them  still  retained  a 
spark  of  life.  It  was  afterwards  known  that  the  deed  was 
committed  by  three  or  four  warriors  from  a  village  near  the 
Ohio;  and  it  is  but  just  to  observe  that,  when  they  returned 
home,  their  conduct  was  disapproved  by  some  of  the  tribe. 

Vage  after  page  might  be  filled  with  records  like  these, 
for  the  letters  and  journals  of  the  day  are  replete  with  narra- 
tives no  less  tragical.  Districts  were  tlepopulated,  and  the 
])rogress  of  the  countrj'  put  back  for  years.  Those  small  and 
scattered  settlements  which  formed  the  feeble  van  of  advanc- 
ing civilization  were  involved  in  general  destruction,  and  the 
fate  of  one  may  stand  for  the  fate  of  all.  In  many  a  woody 
valley  of  the  Alleghanies,  the  a.Ke  and  fire-bmnd  of  the  set- 
tlei'H  had  laid  a  wide  space  :ip":i  to  the  sun.  Here  and  there, 
about  the  clearing,  .stootl  rough  dwellings  of  logs,  surrounded 

1  The  C..n-,|.it.i.v  ofPoiiliar.   \  ..1.   II.,  I'll.  XXII. 


i7«3]  Incidents  of  the  Frontier  5 1 1 

by  enclosures  and  cornfields ;  while,  farther  out  towards  the 
verge  of  the  woods,  the  fallen  trees  still  cumbered  the 
ground.  From  the  clay -built  chimneys  the  smoke  rose  in 
steady  columns  against  the  dark  verge  of  the  forest;  and 
the  afternoon  sun,  which  brightened  the  toj)s  of  the  moun- 
tains, had  already  left  the  valley  in  shadow.  IJefore  many 
houi-s  elajwed,  the  niglit  was  lighted  uj)  with  the  glare  of 
lilazing  dwellings,  and  the  forest  rang  with  tlie  .shrieks  of 
the  murdered  inmates. 

Among  the  records  of  that  ik^'s  sufFerriigs  and  ilisasters, 
none  are  more  striking  than  th*  narratives  of  those  wliose 
lives  were  spared  that  they  myjiit  be  borne  captive  to  the 
Indian  villages.  Kx^msed  to  the  extremity  of  liardsliip,  they 
were  urged  forward  with  the  assurance  of  Inking  tomahawked 
or  burnt  in  case  their  strength  should  fail  them.  Some  made 
their  esca]te  from  the  clutches  of  their  tormentors ;  but  of 
these  not  a  few  fdund  reason  to  repent  their  success,  lost  in 
a  trackless  wilderness,  and  peri-"  ing  miserably  from  hunger 
ai\(l  exiMisure.  Such  attem])ts  could  .sehUmi  be  made  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  settlements.  It  was  only  when  the 
jiarty  had  penetrated  deep  into  tlie  forest  tliat  their  vigilance 
began  to  relax,  and  tlieir  captives  were  bound  and  guarded 
witli  less  rigorous  severity.  Then,  perhaps,  wlien  encamjxid 
by  tlie  side  of  some  mountain  bnnik,  and  when  tlie  waniors 
lay  lost  in  sleep  around  their  tire,  the  jirisiiuer  would  cut  or 
burn  asunder  the  cords  that  bound  liis  wrists  and  aiikle.s, 
and  glide  stealthily  into  the  w.ods.  "With  noiseless  celerity 
he  pursues  his  flight  over  the  fallen  trunks,  ilirough  the  dense 
undergrowth,  and  the  thousand  pitfalls  and  impediments  of 
the  forest;  now  striking  the  rough,  iiard  trunk  of  a  tree,  now 
trijiping  among  tlie  insidious  network  of  vines  and  brambles. 
All  is  darkness  anamd  him,  and  through  the  black  masses  of 


5 1 2  The  Struggle  for  a  Continent  f '763 

foliage   above   he   c-an   catcb    but   aubious    a.ul    unc.Mtain 
gli,uvses  of  the  dull  sky.     At  length,  he  can  ^^-^^^^ 
gle  of  a  neighboring  brook  ;  and.  turnmg   towards   it,  1  e 
wades  along  its  pebbly  channel,  fearing  lest  the  soft  mould 
and  rotten  wood  of  the  forest  nught  reta.n  traees  emn.gh  to 
direet  the  Idoodhound  instinct  of  his  pursuers.     A\Uh  tl.e 
,lawn  of  the  misty  and  cloudy  nu.rning,  he  is  stdl  ,.ush.ng 
on  his  way.  vvhen  his  attention  is  caught    1^  the  s,.cU.a 
H.n.re  of  an  ancient  birch-tree,  which.  wUh  Us  wh.  e  b.uk 
,:„.,i„g  about  it  in  tatters,  seems  wofuUy  famihar  toluseye. 
An.ong  the  neighboring  bushes,  a  blue  smoke  curls  fau.t> 
u,ward  ;  and.  to  his  horror  and  amazen.ent,  he  recogn..es   he 
very  fne  from  whi.-h  he  had  tied  a  few  hours  before,  and  the 
,ile.  of  spruce  lun.ghs  upon  wlrn^h  the  warri.>rs  had  s  e,,l. 
They  have  gone,  however,  and  are  rangin,  the  forest,  ni  keen 
pursuit  of  the   fugitive,  who.  in  his  blind  tl.ght  anud  the 
darkness,  had   circled   round   to  the  very  point  whence  he 
set  out;  a  mistake  n,>t  unconmion  with  careless  or  inexperi- 
enced travellers  in  the  woods.    Almost  in  despair,  he   eaves 
the  ill-omened  spot,  and  directs  his  course  eastward  with 
greater  care;  the  bark  of  the  trees,  roughe,-     ui  tlucker  on 
The  northern  side,  furnishing  a  precarious  clew  for  his  guul- 
ance     Around  and  above  him  nothing  can  be  .een  but  the 
same  endless  m.motony  of  brown  trunks  and  green  leaves, 
closing  him  in  with  an  impervious  screen.     He  reaches  the 
foot  of  a  mountain,  and  toils  upwards  against  the  nigged 
declivity ;  but  when  he  stands  on  the  summit,  the  view  is 
still  shut  out  by  impenetrable  thickets.     High  above  them 
all  shoots  up  the  tall,  gaunt  stem  ..f  a  blasted   pine-tree; 
and.  in   his   eager  longing  for   a  view  of  the  surrounduig 
objects,  he  strains  every  muscle  to  ascend.     T  ark.  wild,  and 
lonely,  the  wilderness  stretches  around  him.  half  hidden  in 


i7«9l 


Incidents  of  the  Frontier 


5*3 


cloutls,  half  ojieu  to  tlie  sight,  mountain  ajul  valley,  crag  and 
glistening  stream ;  but  nowhere  can  he  discern  the  trace  of 
human  hand  or  any  hope  of  rest  and  harlwrage.  Before  I", 
can  l(M)k  for  relief,  league  uj)on  league  must  be  passed,  with- 
out food  to  sustain  or  weajMtn  to  defend  him.  He  descends 
the  mountain,  forcing  his  way  through  the  undergrowth  of 
laurel-bushes ;  while  the  clouds  sink  lower,  and  a  storm  of 
sleet  and  rain  descends  upon  the  waste.  Through  such 
scenes,  and  under  such  exp)suros,  he  presses  onward,  sus- 
taining life  with  the  aid  of  roots  and  berries  ov  the  liesh  of 
reptiles.  rerhai)s,  in  the  last  extremity,  some  party  of 
Iiangers  find  him,  and  bring  him  to  a  place  oi  jefugp  •  per- 
haps, by  his  own  efforts,  he  reaches  some  f-'iLie'  Kjst, 
where  rough  lodging  and  .ough  fare  seem  to  him  mt.i'nrd-of 
luxury ;  or  perhnps,  sj>ent  with  fatigue  and  famine,  he 
perishes  in  despair,  a  meagre  banquet  for  the  wolves. 

[The  Defeat  of  Fontiac.  —  In  the  following  summer,  1764, 
Bouquet  followed  up  his  success  by  penetrating  into  the 
heart  of  the  Indian  country,  thus  forcing  the  Delawares  and 
the  Shawanese  to  sue  for  peace.  IJradstreet  had  meanwhile 
quelled  the  insurrection  of  the  northern  tribes.  Pontiac 
made  dcsjierate  efforts  to  retrieve  his  losses,  but  the  back- 
bone of  Indian  resistance  was  broken.  His  allies  were 
falling  off,  and  his  followers  were  deserting  him.  In  the 
following  year,  1765,  he  .sued  for  })eace,  and  the  British  were 
imdisputed  masters  of  the  Northern  continent.  Four  years 
later  Pontiac  was  slain  by  an  Illinois  Indian,  aftei'  a  drunken 
carousal  in  the  village  of  Cahokia  upon  the  shores  of  the 
Mississippi  —  Ed.] 


33 


f    # 


[in 


'I! 


INDEX 


/v."^ 


MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

lANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


te  111121      112.5 


113.2 


1.25  iu 


12.2 
2.0 


.8 


1.6 


^     /APPLIED  IIVHGE 


'fj^    -OS*    Ua-    itrcpi 

•^O'-heslsr.    N<>«    f.o-k  14609        USA 

(716)    482  -  OJOO  -  Phone 

(7'6!    288  -  5989   -  Fax 


i  .;: 


INDEX 


Argnakis,  from  the  Cliaudicre,  the, 
invited  to  join  against  the  Mo- 
hawk towns,  250. 

Al)eri'roml)ie,  Lord,  force  of,  35fi ; 
makes  au  attack  on  Ticonder(ii,'a, 
364 ;  his  defeat,  365. 

Abraham,  tlie  phiina  of,  386 ;  de- 
scription of,  439. 

Acadia,  I>e  Mouts  petitions  for  per- 
mission to  colonize,  82  ;  Taloi!  tries 
to  open  a  road  to,  1 79  ;  population 
of,  314;  the  French  of,  322; 
ceded  to  England,  334;  di.spntes 
concernin  ■»  tlie  limits  of,  334  ;  the 
English  plan  to  attack,  343 ; 
quickly  reduced  by  Monckton,  351  ; 
France  renounces  her  claim  to, 
454. 

Adeleutado,  of  Florida,  the,  see 
Menende:  tie  AviUs,  Pedro. 

Adirondack  Mountains,  tlie,  101. 

Aigues  Mortes,  pestiferous  dungeons 
of,  315. 

AilletMjust,  D',  insanely  pions,  226. 

Ai.vla-Chapelle,  I'eace  of,  307,  331, 
333,  455. 

Alabama,  State  of,  8. 

Albanel,  Father  Charles,  the  Jesuit, 
penetrates  to  Hin'.son's  Bay,  179. 

Albany,  fortified  town  of,  321  ;  meet- 
ing of  provincial  delegates  at,  .339 ; 
the  French  plan  to  seize,  362. 

"  Alcide,"  the,  captured  by  the  Eng- 
lish, 340. 

Alenibert,  D'.  313. 

Alexander,  Joseph,  escapes  from  the 
French  .and  Indians,  283. 

Algonquins,  from  Three  Uivcis,  the. 


invited  to  join  against    the    Mo- 
hawk towns,  2.")0. 

Algom[uin  Indians,  Cliamplain  joins 
thcMi  against  the  Iro<iuoiii,  95  ;  the, 
religious  belief  of,  467. 

Alleghany  Mountains,  213,  314,  315. 

Alleghany  Hiver,  the,  336. 

Allouez,  Father  Claude,  among  the 
Miscoutius  and  Miamis,  189. 

Alluinettes,  Lac  des,  117. 

America,  owes  much  to  the  imbecil- 
ity of  Louis  XV.,  302 ;  French 
claims  in,  314. 

Amherst,  General  Jeffrey,  captures 
Luuisburg,  364 ;  his  plan  to  ad- 
vance ou  Ticondcroga  and  Crown 
Point,  380 ;  captures  Ticonderoga 
and  Cnjwn  Point,  381  ;  orders 
Rogers  to  take  possession  of  tlie 
French  posts,  473  ;  482. 

Amberst's  Regiment,  at  Quebec,  412. 

Anasta.><ia  Island,  46. 

Andover,  290. 

Anglicans,  the,  322. 

Annahotaha,  fetienne,  offers  to  rein- 
force Dau'.ac,  159. 

"  Annual  Register,"  the,  on  the  fight 
of  Bloody  Bridge,  .501. 

Anse  du  Foulon,  429,  430,  437. 

Antieosti,  Island  of,  70,  242. 

Archer's  Creek,  14. 

Argenson,  Vicomte  d',  Laval  quar- 
rels with,  223;  characteristics  of, 
226. 

Argenson,  D',  French  minister  of 
war,  disregards  Madame  de  Pom- 
p.adour,  312. 

Arthur's  Club,  306. 


5iS 


Index 


I     s- 


Am    I<1,  Kurl^x'f,  K.l. 
Assinil'oiii  River,  the,  -iSS. 
Asturhts  kni-l.ls -f  tho,  32. 
Athiiiias.',  tlic  lluroii  chief,  at  tort 

i)u(iue»iio,  ;ur,. 

Austria,  LouiH  XV.  allies  Imnsef  to, 

.lO-i;  sif,'ii9  thu  treaty  of  lliiberts- 

liiirK.  ■♦•">*i-  ,.    »  I 

AvauRoHr.    Baron    Dul'Ois   .1,   take.s 
ArKens„n'si.la,-e,2W;thcl.ra...ly 

quarrel,  22'J. 
Ayllon,  Vii.s.im.z    .le,    voyages    ami 
discoveries  of,  6. 


Bacchus,  Island  of,  72. 

Hahama  (Mianiiel,  the,  33. 

liarhadoes,  the,  376. 

liarria,  32. 

Karr.',  Charlotte,  UO. 

Barre-,  Major,  at  Quehec,  422 

Barre.  Nicola-s  in  command   ot  tlio 

Coli^ny  colonists,  15. 
BarroiT,  Klias,  killed  by  the  Pe-iuaw- 
kets,  294. 

Bivstille,  the,  312. 

Bath,  gamins;  at,  306. 

Baz-ares.  (Initio  de  las,  sails  to  ex- 
plore Florida  coasts,  9. 

Bear,  clan  of  the,  463. 

Beam,  441.  .... 

Bcauharnois,  Charles  de,  the  intend- 

aiit,   demands   tlie    demolition    of 

Oswego,  297. 
Bcauharnois,  Marquis  de,  243. 
Bcaujeu,   Captain,  plans  to  waylay 

Braddook's    cxpe.lition,  34.'i ;     hjs 

ainl.uscade,  346;  the  attack,  34<  ; 

struck  down,  348. 
Boauport,  tlie  heights  of,  397. 
Beaui)ort,   the   parish   of,   386,   3S<, 

nag 

BeauportUiver,  thc,.386,.394. 

Beauscjonr,  tlie  hill  of,  369. 

Belleisle,  restored  to  France,  45.'). 

Belle  Isle,  Straits  of,  69. 

Beloeil,  cliffs  of,  97. 

Bengal,  455. 

Benin,  negroes  of,  56. 


Beriiicrs,  the  commissary,  on  the 
elation  of  the  French  over  the  re- 
pulse of  tnc  English  at  Mout- 
niorenci,  415. 

Bcrthier,  87. 

Berwick,  village  of,  295. 

Biddeford,  village  of,  295. 

Bienville,  Le  Moyiie  de,  2.!5. 

Bi.'nt   Franvois,  the  intcndaiit,  Vau- 
dreuil's  eulogy  of,  384;  at  Quebec, 

388;  lives  in  luxury,  389. 
Billcrica.  village  of,  289. 
Biscav,  knights  of,  32. 
Blo..dy  Bridge,  the  fight  of,  496,501 ; 

the  losses  in,  501. 
Bloodv  Run,  see  l^wnt's  Creek. 
Boscawen,    Admiral,    captiucs    the 

"Lvs"  and  the  "  Alcide,"  340. 
Boston,  in  gloom  over  Pbips'  defeat, 
242;    the    "(Jeneral    Court,"    at, 

319. 
Bou-'ainvillc,  in  the  attack  on  Oswego, 
360;  brings  news  of  the    Knglirh 
fleet  against  Quebec,  384 ;   on  the 
strength  of  the  fortress  of  Quebec, 
394  ■    his    force    increased,    428 ; 
headquarters  of,  429;  deceived  by 
Wolfe,  431,434  ;  relaxes  his  watch- 
fulness, 436. 
Bon.,uet,  Colonel  Henry,  distress  of 
his  troops,  503 ;  the  second    day  s 
conflict.   505;  his  masterly  strata- 
gem,  .506;   his    victory,   .507;     his 
i;,s.ses,.508;  at  Fort  I'itt.  508  ;  the 
Assemblv  of  Pennsylvania  passes  a 
vote  on  the  merits  and  services  of 
509 ;  receives  the  formal  thanks  of 
the  king,  .509. 
Bourbon,    the    House   of,    holds    the 
three  thrones  of  France.  Spam,  and 
Naples,  308  ;  triumph  of.  308. 
Bourbon,  Island  of,  owned  by  France. 

308. 
Bourdelais,  Fran?ois,  62. 
Bonrgeovs,  Marguerite,  reali/.ed  the 

fair  ideal  of  Christian  womanhood. 

139. 
B<mrlamaque,  Chevalier  de,  ordered 
to    Ticouderoga,   382;    Vaudreuil 


Index 


5W 


writes  letters  to,  397  ;  retreat  of, 

419. 
BriKMock,  Gciaral,  wiit  to  America, 
3»0;  assigucil  to  the  i-liief  coin- 
iiiauil  of  tlio  British  troops  in 
Amrrica,  343;  a  poor  choice,  343; 
chariu-teristiw  of,  343 ;  arrives^  in 
Virgiuia,  343;  his  camp  at  Fort 
Cumberland,  343;  Beaujeu  plans 
an  ambuscade  for,  34fi  ;  presses  on 
to  his  fate,  347  ;  the  attack,  347, 
348  ;  death  of,  349  ;  results  of  his 
defeat,  350 ;  his  defeat  an  Indian 
victory,  361,  452.  477. 
Bradstreet,    Colonel,    destroys    Fort 

Fronteiiac,  364. 
Bradstreet,  Lieutenant-Colonel  John, 

to  advance  to  Lake  ( )ntario,  384. 
Braiuerd,  the  vyanderings  of,  259. 
Brandy,  traffic  in,  265. 
Brattleboro',  town  of,  284. 
Brazil,  56. 

Brazos  Uiver,  the,  215. 
Brcbeuf.  Jean  de,  St.  Louis  attacked 
by  the  Iroquois,  143;  refu.ses  to 
escape,  143;  at  the  stake,  149; 
relics  of,  found  at  St.  Ignace,  149  ; 
tortured,  150;  death  of,  151  ;  char- 
acter of,  151;  burial  of,  152;  his 
skull  preserved  as  a  relic,  152. 
Brest,  3,0,  352. 

Breton,  Cape,  restored  by  England, 
302  ;  the  French  of,  322 ;  ceded  to 
England,  454. 
Brissac,  the  Mare'chal  de,  107. 
British  colonies,  the,   subjection  of 
Canada  would  lead  to  a  revolt  of, 
302  ;  differences  among,  319. 
Broad  Kiver,  14. 
Broglie,  308. 

Brown,  Lieutenant,  on  the   Heights 
of    Abraham,    445;     in    Dalzell's 
night  attack  on  Pontiac,  495. 
Brule,  fetieune,  117. 
Buade,  Louis  de,  see  Fiontenar,  Count. 
Bunker  Hill,  347. 
Burgoviie,  347. 
Burke!  on  Wolfe,  422. 
Burnet,  governor  of  New  YorK,  es 


tablishcs  a  post  on  Lake  Ontario, 

■2JS. 
Burton,  Lieutenant-Colonel,  at  I'oint 

Levi,  433,  43S. 
Uushy  linn,  Boiuiuet's  expedition  at, 

5U,H  ;  the  battle  of,  a  well-conlcsted 

action,  509  ;  joy  in  the  province., 

over  tlie  victory  at,  MYJ. 
Bute,  Earl  of,  tlie  I'eace  of  Paris,  4.->4. 
IJuttcs  U-Neveu,  440,  447. 
Byng  inlet,  118. 

C^noT,  Sebastian,  discoveries  of,  9. 
Cadet,  Joseph,  liis  arrival  at  Ciiiebec, 
3Si4 ;    Vaudreuil's  praise   of.  385  ; 
lives  in  luxury  at  t^uebec,  389. 
Callieres,  comes   to   tlie   defence  of 

Quebec,  239  ;  the  governor,  267. 
Calliere,  Point,  1.J9. 
Camanches,  the,  257. 
Campau,  Baptiste,  the  house  of,  499, 

500. 
Canada,  country  embraced    by  the 
name  of,   71;    deriv.ition  of    the 
name,  71  ;  tlie  chief  sufferer  from 
the  monopoly  of  the  Company  of 
the  West,  167  ;  tlie  governor-gen- 
eral, 169;  the  intendant,  169;  the 
king  alone  supreme   in,  171;  the 
council,  171  ;  inferior  courts,  172; 
Talon's  attempt  to  establish  trade 
between  the  West  Indies  and.  177; 
a  country  of  cabals  and  intrigues. 
267  ;  a  position  of  great  strcn^;th, 
301 ;  its  conquest  made  possible  liy 
the  fatuity  of  Louis  XV.  and  his 
Pompadour,  302;  its  possession  a 
(piestion   of    diplomacy,   302 ;    its 
subjection  would  lead  to  a  revolt 
of  tlie  British  colonics,  .302  ;  key  to 
a  boundless  interior,  314  ;  census  in 
1754  of,  314 ;  made  a  citadel  of  the 
state  religion,  315;  had  a  vigor  of 
her   own,   316;   position    of,   317; 
Indian     trilies     of,    317;     French 
claims  to,  317;  uo  popular  legis- 
lature   in,    327;     hatred    of     the 
English    co'onis  s    towards,    333; 


III 


520 


Index 


i  c .  ii 


corruption     iu,    368;    thrcatcuca 
with  famine,  368;  cedud  to  Eug- 
laud,  454. 
Caneello,  efforts  to  convert  the  na- 
tives, 8;  tinirdercd.  a. 
Cape  Tourui    ite,  72. 
CapKouge,  3U4,  410,  438. 
Carhcil,  the  Jesuit,  aversion  of  Ca- 
dillac for,  265. 
Caribou,  the,  Uapids  of,  117. 
Cariguan,  regiment  of,  243. 
Carillon,  Uapids  of,  108. 
Car'  ton,    Colonel    Guy,     376;    at 
C^aebcc,  407  ;  lauds  at  I'ointe-aux- 
Trembles,  407. 
Caroline,  Fort,  18  ;  discontent  iu,  18  ; 
conspiracy    and    sedition    at,   18; 
famine  at,  20;   defenceless  condi- 
tion  of,  25,  38;  attacked   by  tlio 
Spaniards,  42;  the  fugitives,  44; 
tiie  massacre,  45. 
Carter,    Marah,    murdered     by   the 

French,  and  Indians,  279. 
Carteret,  John,  307. 
Cartier,  Jacques,  efforts  to  plant  a 
colonv  in  Spanish  Florida,  9 ;  most 
eminent  in  St.  Malo,  69  ;  sails  for 
Newfoundland,  69  ;  voy.age  a  mere 
reconnaissance,  70 ;  receives  second 
commission  from  Chabot,  70 ;  sets 
out   on    second     expedition,    70; 
reaches  the   St.   Lawrence   River, 
71 ;  meeting  with  tiie  Indians,  72  ; 
visit  to  Chief  Donnacona,  72 ;  re- 
solves  to    go    to    Hochelaga,  73 ; 
warned  by  the  Indians  to  desist. 
73;  sets  out  for   Hochelaga,  74; 
reception  by  the  natives,  75 ;  fare 
well  to    Hochelaga,    78;    reaches 
Quebec,  78  ;  scurvy  afflicts  expedi- 
tion, 79  ;  takes  Donnacona  and  his 
chiefs  forcibly  on  board  ship,  80; 
sails   for    France,    80;    appointed 
Captain-General  of  a  new  expedi- 
tion, 80 ;  third  voyage  to  the  New 
World,  80 ;  abandons  New  France 
before  Roberval's  arrival,  81. 
Carver,    Captain,  the  traveller,  on 
I'ontiac's  plot,  487. 


Casson,  Dollier  de,  on  the  principal 

fault  of  Frenchnion,  159. 
Catharine,  the  (Jjibwa    girl,  warns 

(iladwyn  of  Pontiac's  plot,  486. 
Catlin,    Joseph,    attacked     by    the 

French  and  Indians,  277. 
Caughnawagas,  the,  join  the  expedi- 
tion against  New   England,  272  i 
317  ;  at  Fort  Du  Qnesue,  ^45. 
Cavalier  traditions,  322. 
Cedars,  the,  hamlet  of,  473. 
Cedars,  the,  rajjids  of,  473. 
"  Centurion,"  the,  411. 
Cliabot,  gives  Cartitr  a  second  com- 
mission, 70. 
Chacornacle,   Lieutenant,   joins   Ca- 
dillac, 268. 
Chaleurs,  Gulf  of,  Cartier  enters,  69. 
Clhilleux,  43. 
Chamberlain,  John,  tradition  of  his 

meeting  with  I'augus,  296. 
Chambly,  Ha.sin  of,  97. 
Chambly,  stone  fort    bnilt    by  the 

French  at,  298. 
Champlain,  Lake,  298,  352,  382. 
Champlain,  Samuel  do,  aci'opts  post 
in  l)e  Chastes  expedition  to  New 
France,     82 ;     explores     the    St. 
Lawrence    Ui^er,    84:    lays    the 
foundation   of    Qucimjc,    89;    con- 
spiracy  revealed    to,    90;    winter 
sufferings  at  Quebec,  92;  return 
of  Tontgrave',  94;  hopes  of   find- 
ing a  way  to  China,  9^  ;  joins  the 
Hurons  and    Algoniiuins    ag.-.inst 
the  Iroquois,  95  ;  victory  over  the 
Iroquois,   105;    disposition  of  the 
prisoners,  105  ;  return  to  Quel)ec, 
106 ;    deceived    by   Vignau,   107 ; 
hastens  to  i>;llow  up  Vignau's  re- 
ported discoveries,  108  ;  difficulties 
of    the    journey,    108;    asks    for 
canoes  and  men  to  visit  the  F''-)ia- 
sings.  111;  is  refused.   111;     'ig- 
nau's    falsehoods    disclosed,    112; 
clemency  to   Vignau,  113;   relig- 
ious zeal  of,  114  ;  takes  four  of  the 
Roxollet   Friars    to    New   France, 
114;  the  first  mass,    114;  on  the 


ill' 


Index 


521 


track  of  Lo  Caron,  116;  at  Lake  1 
Nijiissiiig,  117;  di.scovt-ry  of  I^iiko 
Huron,  118;  oiiLaku  Uuturio,  U'J; 
attack  on  lliu  Iroiiuois,  119;  re- 
turns to  (Quebec,  120;  UiBicultics 
at  (inebec,  120;  arrival  of  Jeiiuits, 
120;  tlie  "Comiiany  of  New 
France,"  liO ;  toned  to  capitnlate, 
122;  death  of,  121;  liis  cliaractur 
rather  that  of  tlie  Middle  A'^e 
than  of  the  sovcnteentli  eenliirv, 
12.'t;  severity  of  his  hiss  to  the 
colony,  12.'! ;  estimate  of,  12.1. 

Champs  Klysces,  .'it  1. 

Chareute  Kiver,  the,  in,  56. 

Charles  I.  of  Kni^laiid,  aids  the 
relwls  in  France,  121. 

Charles  IX.,  14. 

Charlesbourg,  420. 

Charlesfort,  14. 

Charlevoix,  I'iorre  Francois  Xavier 
dc,  .55;  on  the  copjier  mines  of 
Lake  Superior,  177. 

Charlevoix,  on  the  Iroquois  invasion, 
232. 

Chartres,  F'ort,  299. 

Chass.igoac,  Chief  of  the  Illinois, 
meeting  with   La  Salle,   200. 

Clia.stes,  Aymar  de,  receives  patent 
for  expedition  to  New  P" nance,  H'2  ; 
death  of,  W2. 

Clmte.au  hattery,  the,  .at  Quehec,  .194. 

Chateau  IJiclier,  the  parish  of,  hnrned 
hy  W.dfe,  417. 

Chriteang.ay,  2.3.3. 

Cluats,  Falls  of  the,  110. 

Chamliere,  the,  cataracts  of,  109. 

Cliaudiere,  Lake  of  the,  110. 

Chauvin,  Captain,  joined  I'ontgrave 
in  unsuccessful  effort  to  colonize, 
82  ;  ilouth  of,  82. 

Cherokee  (.'the,  their  trade  with  other 
tribes.  258. 

ChesaiK'ake  Bay,  32. 

"  Chcvcux  Releves,'"  117. 

Chesterfleld,  Lord,  .307. 

Chick.asaws,  the,  464. 

Chortaws,  the,  464. 

Chogagfc  River,  tlie,  474. 


Church,  Major  ncnjamin,  attacked 

by  the  French  and  Indians,  277. 
Clergy  battery,  the,  at  Quebec,  394. 
Clermont,  Comte  tie,  .308. 
Clive,  lAtrd,  the  exploits  of,  341. 
Coccpiard,  Kev.  Claude  (iodefroy,  on 
the    capture    of    Oswego    by    the 
French,  .300. 
Colbert,  ffeun  Uaptiste,  defects  in  Ids 
policy,  165;  Talon  a  true  disciple 
of,  174;  reluctantly   recalls  Talon, 
179;  the  true  antagonist  (A    Laval, 
226. 

Coligny,  (iaspar  de,  re])resei!lative 
and  leader  of  Protestantism  of 
France,  10;  effort  to  build  up  a 
Calvinist  France  in  America.  II; 
Ailmiral  of  France,  II;  plans 
second  Huguenot  colony  to  the 
New  World,  1 1  ;  the  Puritans  coin- 
pareil  to  colonists  of,  II  ;  reipiircs 
Laudonni'"'"'"  to  resign  his  com- 
mand, 26. 

Cidumbus,  31. 

Company  of  New  France,  the,  formed 
by  liichclieu,  120;  powers  graniod 
to,  120;  reiinirements  of,  120. 

Conde,  the  <;rrat,  .308. 

Connecticut,  colony  of,  319. 

Connectii'Ut,  Uiver,  the,  321. 

Connor,  .lames,  an  English  scout,  ai 
the  ruins  of  Oswego,  362. 

Contades,  308. 

Contreco'ur.  in  command  at  Fort  l)u 
Qnesne,  .345  ;  his  dismay  ol  hearing 
of  the  approach  of  the  English, 
.345. 

Conw.ay,  256. 

Cork,  .340. 

Corpus  Christi  Day,  356. 

Co.sette,  ("aptain,  37. 

Costian,  Captain,  at  Quebec,  404. 

Council  of  Canada,  the,  powers  of, 
171. 

Courcelle,  Sieur  de,  see  Re'mij,  Daniel 
de. 

C'liireurs  de  Bois  (roamers  of  the 
woods,  forest  rangers),  an  ol>- 
ject  of   horror  to   the  kiug,  180; 


1 


ill. 


Index 


Kill  ? 


6  22 

..iili.tii'l''".  l»'' .  "'1'.""-  „  .  .,,.3  . 

at  Quelle,  404.  , 

t<i\vn!«,  i')t). 
Cmrval.alQ       ^'■•■»"*,., 
r..„tnn...  .10  ""■■''- 

(•n>wf..r.ir  .--J'''-- 

Ci-.tUs  i1i«.  4t>t.  . 

rrrv..nw.r.    Kort,  .L'struy.-l   l.v  tl.o 

iiiiiliii<'<T''.  -JOO. 
Crisa^i,  M;ir.i..is  .Ic  248. 
(>„w  liicliuns,  the,  IIW-       . 
;>w...-..i..t,U.2;  French  nvt^rf 

tvin.'  of.  20s  ;  fort  >.".U  at    -J-  , 
attack,  :u:U  nvilun.  of  tUc  exH. 

tion    ;jr.l  ;    Amlu-rsfs  plan  to   a.l 
180  •  the  Fn'ii«-h  ri-tiro 
to.  m  ;  oaiuuvcl  l.y  the  Kngli^h, 
:isi  -,419. 
SwoMhefisht.^.  the  Stuarts^- 

oeivc    tlu'ir    .loath-l.low    at.   m> , 
l)i.kooiruml«rlai..lat.m).,.i.l 
CumWrlau,!.   l)uko_of.atCuno,len 

ami  Fontenoy.  30/. 
rllKTlana.  Fort.  Bra-Mook     -- 

hi.  oam,.  at.  34H  ;  Knox  at.  «.• 
Cnnihoihui'l  lloa.l,  »0l. 

.         •    ,„     William     wounilcil     m 
Cununin;4s.    Willi  ini, 

LovcweU's  cxped.lioiis,  2J0, 


Tlvniov    Father  Clanao,  the  .Tesnit, 
a«    the    Mascoutins    and   the 

Miamix,  1S9- 
Dah.'otah  Indians,  the,  404. 
l)'.\k.nihort,  SCO  .t/<'m'.<'r/.  /' • 
l)illin<',  Major,  at  Qnol.oc,  408 
in:  Captain,   sont    to^reinforon 
lMroit.4'..-2;onLakoF.r.e.40i, 
.^,San.;asky,4'..2:atlVes,,n   We 
4.V2;lmrn.thovina..'.>oftho^    - 
^ndot..  4-J2  :  reaches  Detroit.  492  . 


,„,,r«t«am,494;ai.lp-<le-oampto 
A  her.t.404;hisintorv,ewj  h 
i;ia.lwvn.  494;  plans  a  ni«ht  att.uk 
lnl.on.iae.494-.  lWiacwaruc.1 
4":,;   the   aavaneo,  49.5;   attacked 

,-,-•  his  rneonnter  wilh  lli«  iro- 
,; oi's  at  .he  Lon,^  San..  I'-.O;  de- 
X:;::dl,yll"rons.  1.^2;  death  of. 

l):;;;;hi..'s  U.ittcry.  the.  at  Quehec. 
lHu!ersi^ro.  .Terr.no  deUoyer  do  l.a. 
'  t'nnianded  to  os.aldi.h  a  llo.el- 

Dieu  at  Montreal.  M... 
Davis,    Klea/.er.    wounded     h) 

IVcpiawkets,  294. 

AyiiKtr  (If. 
Deer,  clan  of  the.  40^ 

noerfleld,   villa!,'fi   "f.   ■^•^'   '?f^"  " 

of    "TS;  attacked   hv  the    French 

,  .    1-     .  .>-i  'I"  captives, 

and  Indians,  2. 4  1 

,  tv..  rem  n, 

asi  ;  hiss  sntie. 

2S1  ;  not  aham- 
n..Vuvares.  the.  sep  '     •"^" 

"Son;332;:^tFor.Daii«-"e. 

Delaware,  the  colony  of,  320. 
n     n  "0    in  charge  of  the  firesh^ 
at  Quehoc.  .395;    his   nerves  f.ul. 

neM;nts,Siour,sooG«a../r.V,r./... 
«viUe.Maranis,on/A.oou,...-. 

pS^tuJ  Island  of.  restored  by 

Entjlaiid.  4r.4. 
Dotroit,Jesuit  Mission  at  133,  ivist 

i,„,or.ant  location  "f  •  2fi!>  •  C-  ^  ^J 
lu's  plans  for.  207;  ^-adilac    ays 
Ihe   fn"'latlonfor,20S;  isKivon 

otrto  Cadillac,  270;  French  and 


Index 


523 


Iniliaiw  at,  .ISO  ;  Tloprrs  ..r.lpro.l  to 
t  ikf!    poMxcunii'ii   <if.   ■♦"•'';    l>al/.ell 
K.ut    to     reiiifon-c,    4'J:i  ;    Dul/.fll 
arrives    at.    4;ii ;    4OT,    4'.i:).  501  ; 
cliiingiiiK  t«'nij)er  uf   tlu   liiUiann, 
502. 
nottiiiijpn,  371. 
Dpiix  KiviiTC:*,  tlio,  117. 
Diainoii.l,  C:\yi\  Hit,  n'.i.l,  .107. 
"  l)i.'\iia,"tlu',  arrives  at  «iiU'lK>r,  440. 
DM.rot,  31.1. 
l)ii.|ip»>,  11. 

Difskau,    Hamn,     .lofoatfil     in    tlio 
Lattlo  of   Lakp  (ic.>ri;o,  .'l.^O ;   scut 
to  Amerira,  .'UO;  at  (imO.cc,  .l."!.' ; 
his  filaii  to  captnro  Fort  <  Iswcijo, 
."JS-i;   .ittai-ks    .loliiisoii,    ."J.^'i ;    the 
battle  of   J-ake   (lforj;e,  .3.")3-3.">.^i ; 
taken  prisoner,  .".."i.'i. 
Dinwiililie,    (iovernor,   of    Virgini.a, 
sends  Wa^hin^'ton  to  protest  av'ain.-t 
the  Frenili  occupation  of   I'resipr 
Isle,  3.J.J. 
Pollicau,  .loan,  114. 
Dolphins,  tlio,  liiver  of,  .10. 
Dominica,  4.')4. 

Doiiriacona,  t'artier's  visit  to,  72.^ 
Dorchester,  Lor.l,  see  CwUlnn,  (Ini/. 
Douay,  Anastivse,  the  assa.-isination  of 

La  Salle,  210. 
Dnchcsnt^au,  on  tlie  conretirs  ilc  hois, 
181. 

Duchcsncan,  the  intenilant,  20 1. 
Dnsue,  Aljjhonse  dc,  joins  I'adillac, 

2C8. 
Duliaut,  plots  ajj.ainst  La  Salle,  21.') ; 
quarrel  with  Moranget,  215  ,  mur- 
ders Moranget,  Jsaget,  and  Nika, 
217  ;  assassinates  La  Salle,  210. 
Du  Lhut,  the  leader  of  tlie  coureiirs  de 

tms,  181. 
Dnma.«,  in  Be.anjeu's  aml)n.srade,340. 
Diinuis,    Captain,   at    Quebec,    309; 
failure  of    his  niglit  attacks,  3'.t9, 
402;  sent  to  strengthen  accessible 
points,  406,  410. 
DunKar,  Colonel,  .150. 
Dunkirk,   the  fortress  of,  destroyed 
by  the  French,  455. 


Dunstable,  t>  wn  of.  .ittackcd  l>y  the 

Inilians,  28S. 
Du  I'lessis,  I'acilbiue,  114. 
Dupont,  war  sliipt  of,  14. 
Du  (jnesiu:.  Fort,  the  Kn^lish  jdan  to 

attack,  343  ;  llraddock's  expedition 

before,   344  ;  Contrecoiir   in  com 

mand  at,  345  ;  cajdured  by  Fork's, 

3f.4. 
Du  (^uesiie,  ATanpiis,  on  Piquet,  114. 
Durell,  Admiral,  ;i7«  ;  arrives  at  Isle- 

aux-Comlres,  .';s5. 
Durham    Terrace,  at  tjueber,  448. 
Dntcli,  tlie,  in  Pennsylvania,  324. 
Dutch    Kefortned    Cliurch,    tlie,    in 

New  Y.irk,  .125. 
Duval,  plot  to   kill  Champlain,  and 

dcdiver  (jucbec- to  the  rUs.|Ues  and 
Spaniards,  'JO ;  arrested  and  exe- 
cuted, 01. 

Ei>i;»nrRfiii,  the  University  of,  41C. 

r.dward.  Fort,  .101. 

K.lwards,  321. 

IvHinont,  Cape,  370. 

F,li/.abeth,  (iucen,  15. 

Knijland,    Florida    claimed    by,    0 ; 
neglects   Indian   affairs,   20O;   tlie 
annual    i)resent    to    the    Ir.xiuois 
from,  200 ;  restores  Cape  IJreton  to 
France,  302;  benefits  derived  from 
the  Seven  Years  War,  303  ;  giiiiw 
ti:e  mastery  of  North  America  and 
Iiidi;i,   "o"  ■   her  colonial    system, 
.101;  reign  of  George  H.  in,  lai ; 
civil  war  and  tlie  restoration,  .103  ; 
social  aspect  of,  305,  .100  ;  nobility  of 
France    comji.ared    with    that    of, 
309 ;  French  jiossessions  ceded  by 
the   Peace  of   Paris  to,   454;   mis- 
tress of  the  sexs,  457  ;  her  glory  in 
giving  birth  to  the  United  States, 
457  ;   her   British-American    prov- 
inces show  symjitoms  of  revolt,  458  ; 
signs  the  Pe.ace  of  Paris,  483. 
Krie,  Lake,  D.alzell  on,  492. 
Esiiuimaux,  the,  257. 
Etechemins,  the,  317. 


«! 


I 


'M 


Index 


524 

Faiiuar,  .Taroh,  mortally  won-vlp.!  l.y 

tin-  rciiiiawkttn,  ay"«. 
Fi»r<>fll,   J.)si:ili,   o>*<ai>o!«    from    the 
Iii.liiins  288  ;  rM*v>*  a  <oM.i>aiiy  to 
hunt  Iii<li:iiiH,  28;t ;  wouii.!..!,  2'J2. 
FiiiilHMirK  St.  (icrmain,  the,  311. 
Feniaiiilina,  13. 
Fiiliiiii!,'.  Il>i'ry.  30:1. 
Five    Nations  of   tl'"   IroqnoH.   tlif. 
an,H.al  to  Kins  William   for  ,._ro- 
trction   aijaii.st   tii.-   Frwirh,   -•-"•; 
,|,.,,,l     „v..r     tlM'ir    tx'av.T  limiting,' 
^rr„.ni.l  to   Kinu   William.  'JTO. 
Flori.la,  Pon'  <>  'l«'  ••<"'"  ''"I'''"'''''  '""' 
namex,  0;   coast   outline    l.r.oinr* 
b.lt.T  known  to  S|.aniar.l.-<.  f. ;  ex- 

po.liii ,f  .Narva.-/,  to,  7  :   l>"N.to 

plans  to  con.i"'r,  T;  <'■''•'".»  ''" 
Vara  inakM  false  stateiM-nts  con- 
ceri.in-.  7;  plan  f„r  .nloni/ation. 
9  •  terrilorv  «mil>raco.l  l>y  name  of, 
oj     rival   Vlaims     to,    9;     seton.l 

ll'ivnenot  CXI"'"''''""  *"•  '"'  '''"'' 
.lonniereV  oxfeMition  to,   Kl;  cov- 
eieil    l.v    Sir    .lolin    Hawkins    for 
Kn-lan.l.      24;      Menen-le/.     oom- 
missiono,!  to  eon.,uer,  2'J;  arrival 
of   llio  Spaniar.ls  in,  34;   Menon- 
de/.    takes    formal    (.ossession   of, 
3G-  Oonrjli'.es   lands  in.  -''0;  314  ; 
cecie.l  to  Knjjland  l.y  Spain,  4,54. 
FoUin,  Sienr,  177. 
F'ontaine,  I'ierre,  24."). 
y„r!.cs,  (ienoral,  laj.turM   I'ort   Dn 

Qnesne,  364. 
F,,rt  George  Island,  58. 
Fox,  Henry,  :!»>7. 

France.  Florida  claimed  l.y,  9  ;  Si..an- 
ish  jealousy  of.  9;  I'i^''  •'"  ^"'"*- 
dian   forces   well    in    li.and,    12^  ; 
filled  with  the  zeal  of  proselytisin, 
12'J  ;  receives  on  parchment  a  tre- 
mendous accession,  213;  her  care- 
ful attention   to   Indian  affairs  a 
contrast  to  the  neglect  of  Kngland, 
ofiO-     France    f<.rtities    tlie    west, 
^oo'-  T,onis  XV.  l.reaks  the  tra.li- 
,     „al   p.dicv   of,   302:    American 
possessions  of,  303  ;  mined  l.y  the 


Seven   Years   War   in  two  ronti- 
nents,    .103;     HoH^e    of    IV.urlM.n 
holds    the    throne    of.    3(IH;    her 
claims.  308  ;   nohility  of  Ki.gland 
compared  to  that  of.  .30'J  ;  prodig- 
ii.us  iiitluence  of  women  in,  310; 
^i.M,s  of    ilecay,   310;    the   court, 
.^i() ;  th'^   dergv,  310;  the   people, 
.1IO-;tl  1  ;  an  aggregate  ofdisjointed 
,,-,rls  .•tll;atli'mpt  to  scour  heresy 
ont    of,    311  ;    her    manif-l'l    iH* 
siimmc.l    up    in    the     king,    31-.' ; 
i„,|„.n.e  of   Ma.lame   de    I'ompa- 
d„i.roi..  31-J;  decline  ..f  tl,.    mon- 
arciiy,3l3;  her  claims  in  America, 
.114  •'  l.nihls  lis   iH'St  colony   on  a 
i.rin'ciple   of   exclusion,   316;    her 
claims  to  Canada,  317;  compiers 
the  undisputed  command  of  Lake 
Ontario,  361  ;  her  cessions  to  (ireat 
Britain  hy  the  Peace  of  I'aris,  4.'i4  ; 
signs  the"l'ea.e  of  Paris,  483, 
Francis   the    First,   ignores    hull    of 

Alex.ander  the  Sixth,  70 
Franciscans,  the,  in  Canada,  130. 
Franklin.  .321. 
Franklin  Inlet,  119. 
Fraser,  Colonel,  at  Quebec,  409. 
yra.ser's     Highlanders,    at     Quebec. 

412,  413.  136 
Fra.ser,  Hon.  .Malcolm,  446. 
Frederic  II.  of  Prussia.  302, 
Frederic.  Fort,  2'J'.», 
Frederic  tliu  Creat.  the  victories  of. 

341. 
French,  the,  spur  on   the   Abcnakis 
a.'ainst  New  Knglan.l,  272  ;  hegin 
to  occupy  the  Ohio   Valley.  315; 
M  Prcsqu'  Isle,  335;  elated  hy  the 
repulse   of   the    English  at  Mont- 
iiiorenci,  415. 
French  Creek,  336. 
French.  Thomas,  town  clerk  of  Deer- 

fiehl.  281. 
Frontenac,  Count.  72  ;  his  defence  of 
Qnehec,  2-33;  his  death.  2.33;  re- 
ceives Phips'  demand  for  surren- 
der. 23,-.;  his  reply.  237;  joyful 
tidi'iP's,   255:    hailed    as   a  father 


'  i 


Index 


525 


by  the  Canadians,  2.')5 ;  manlien 
againiit  the  Cautunii  uf  thu  Iro- 
quuit,  'i^Ct ;  ail  inhuman  expcdii'Ut, 
2G1. 

Frontenac,  Fort,  La  Salle  in  com- 
mand at,  195 ;  2'J7,  302 ;  dostri  yed 
hy  the  Knjflish,  .164. 

Fri>J!cn  Ocean,  lUS. 

Fryc,  Joniithiin,  c-ha|ilHhi  of  Love- 
well's  ex|M(litii>n,  29t>;  mortiilly 
wounded,   'I'Xl ;    death    of,    295. 

Fryehuri;,  villat;e  of,  2.'i6,  29fi. 

Fnrirade,  the,  in  (.'iniiida,  2.'58 ;  con- 
flict lictwcen  the  French  and  Eng- 
liih  in.  258. 


Gachet.  24f>. 

(Jnife,  General  Thomas,  in  Braddook's 
expeilition,  347  ;  wounded,  349. 

Galicia,  knights  of,  32. 

Giiray,  Juan  de,  voyages  of,  6. 

Garonne  River,  the,  13. 

GaniR',  Cartier  |)laiit.s  a  cross  at,  70. 

Gates,  in  Braddock's  expeditioii,  347  ; 
wounded,  349. 

Ga\ ,  Father,  2r)2. 

"  General  Court,"  the,  at  Boston,  319. 

General  nos|iital,  the,  at  Quebec,  420. 

Genesee,  the,  Imttcry  of,  101. 

George,  Fort,  afc  Xew  Oivego. 

George,  Lake,  102. 

George  IL,  prosaic  reign  of,  303  ;  liis 
opinion  of  Wolfe,  377. 

Georgia,  colony  of,  326. 

Georgia,  State  of,  80. 

Georgian  Bay,  118. 

Germans,  the,  in  Pennsylvania,  324  ; 
in  New  York,  325. 

Gihraltar,  garrison  of,  308. 

Gironde  River,  the,  13. 

Gi.st,  Christopher,  334. 

Glad'vyn,  Major,  in  command  at 
Detroit,  warned  hy  Caihiiriue  of 
Pontiac's  plot,  486 ;  a  night  of 
anxiety,  487 ;  i)rci)arations  for 
defence,  487 ;  receives  Pontiac, 
490;  his  reply  to  Pontiac,  490; 
Pontiac's  plot,  491. 


rila.»Row,  Wolfe  at,  372. 

Cileudenning,  Archibald,  attacked  by 
the  lM<<i.-\ns,  510. 

Oodfrfj.,  ;I. 

'•  GiXKlwill,"  the  transport,  390. 

Gordon,  the  engineer,  in  Hra<ldock'« 
exjtcdition,  347. 

Gone,  the  Island  jf,  restored  to 
France,  455. 

Gourguos,  l)<>mlni<|UR  de,  hatred  of 
the  Spaniards,  55;  e;  riv  life  of, 
55  ;  resolves  on  vengeance,  5t> ;  his 
hand  of  adventurers,  56;  the  voy- 
age, 56;  his  plau  divulged,  57; 
w,armly  welconiuil  by  the  Indians, 
58;  lands  in  Florida,  59;  joins 
forces  with  Chief  S.itouriona 
against  the  Spaniards,  61 ;  attack 
on  the  Spaniard.^,  64  ;  victory  over 
the  Spaniards,  65;  successfully 
attacks  Fort  Sau  Mateo,  66 ;  exe- 
cution of  Spanish  prisoners,  67; 
mission  ftdlilled,  67 ;  roturu  to 
France,  68. 

Governor-(ieneral  of  Canada,  the, 
powers  of,  169;  his  relations  with 
the  intendant,  169. 

Granada,  Spain's  liuiil  triumph  over 
infidels  of,  5;  ceded  by  France, 
454. 

Grandchemin,  44. 

Grande  Isle,  101. 

Grand  (Julf,  211. 

Grand  Menan,  the,  370. 

Grant,  Captain,  in  Dalzell's  night 
attack  on  Pontiac,  495,  497,  500, 
.50".. 

Granville,  87. 

Gr-inville,  captured  by  Phips,  239. 

Gray,  Captain,  in  Dalzell's  night 
attack  on  Pontiac,  495;  mortally 
wounded,  496. 

Great  Mogul,  the,  341. 

Green  Bay,  Jesuit  Mission  at,  133; 
F.ither  Marquette  at,  189. 

Green  Mountains,  the,  101. 

Greenfield  Me.idows,  282. 

Grenadiers,  the,  at  Quebec,  412,  413  ; 
their    losses,    414;     rebuked     by 


i 


526 


Index 


Wolfe.  4ir.;    on  the    Ikifil.t^  of 
Abraliiini,  45'J. 
Greuuaiuf*.  the,  ce.lea    by    Iramc. 

Or*!li...  towu   of.  aiU^ked    l.y   the 

Gu;MU.luu,.e.re.torcabyth«h..t.'l'-^''. 

Gua.1.   I'ierre  du,  Sicur  .lo  M-uts. 
ohtuiu*  have   to  o.h.iiue  Aciv  ui 
^...    eslal.l.^hex    hiiiiwlf    at    I -rt 
Ko'val.    H-J;  l.at.M.t    rf»iU..le.l,  »,1; 
l.,JM.,n    for  aUcovry    K,;   «c.n.lH 
l'...,tgrav.-   aud   Ihauiplaiu  to  the 
New  Wurhl,  »4. 
GuhMin. .  the  battalion  of.  at  Qurl,e.-. 
4,->.  eman'H  ou  tlK- St.  (  harh*, 
.-m';  oi.  th«  llfightsof  Abraham. 
440,441. 


IIai.i-ky.  village  of.  273. 
Halifax,  378,  4:10. 

Hanover,  the  House  of,  a03. 

.Iv,  Major,  at  Quel*o,4.K>.  402. 
Harris  Thoma.,  an  Kn^lisl...  out,  at 

the  ruins  of  (>HNvej,'o.:ii.2. 
n.a.s«all.      Henjaniin,     deserts     from 
Lovevvcll,  'J'.t2. 

Hittiihl,  villas^'C  of,  27.1. 

Haverhiil.  French  and  Indian  aitaek 

on,  289. 

Havre,  U. 

Hawk,  elan  of  the,  4C3. 

,•         c:-     l.iliii     22:   comes   to 
Hawkins,   hir    .lonn,   —  > 

relief  of  I.audonniire's  eonii-any, 
2^;  des.ri,.tion  <.f,  --i'' i  covets 
Florida  for  Kn^land.  24. 
Henderson,  ou  the  Heights  nf  Abra- 
ham, 445.  , 
Hendrick,  the   Mohawk   chief,  wth 

.lohnson,  352  ;  death  of,  3;.3. 
Hions,  the  German,  murders  Moran- 

.'ct,  Saget,  and  Nika,  217. 
Hi^'hlan.lers,    the,    in     I'"-^'!  Z^''"- 
crombie's  attack  on  'IVonderoga. 

3G4. 
Hilton  Head.  14.  ,      ,      .   ,. 

HispanioUi.  Ci.mrgues  lauds  at,  o>- 


"Hochclaga,  Rimo{,"7l. 
ll.Khelaga.  town  of,  C'artior  «eu  out 

lui,  75  ;  lndiau»  of,  7j. 
Hogarth.  305. 
Holdernesse.    Karl    of,    UHer    from 

NVidfe  to,  425. 
Holland,  436,  457. 
Holmes.   Admiral,  at    Quebec.  3.8, 

418,  4l'J,  42tl,  427,431. 
HoM'ital    iJullery.    the,    at    Qu.  !*c, 

3'J4. 
Hotel  Dieu,  the,  at  Quebec,  420. 

Howe,  Colonel,  4,34;  on  the  He.ghU 
of  Abraham,  440. 

Howe.  Lor.1,  killed  at  Ticonderoga, 
304  •  the  real  .ommander  of  tlie 
Ticmdcroga  expedition,  3r,C, ;  esti- 
mates of,  3f,C;  .k.t.h  of.  366  ;  an- 

ecdote  of,  367. 
Hoyt,  David,  attacked  by  the  hrcuch 

and  Indians,  277. 
Hiil*rt^burg,  the  treaty  of,  456. 

Hudson  Bav,  314. 

Hudson,  Henry,  voy.tge  of.  108. 

Hudson  Uiver,  the,  321. 

Huguenots,  the,  fugitives  from  torture 
and  death,  10;  second  colony  sJiUs 
forthoNew  Worhl,  10;  a  i-olitictl 
a.s  well  as  a  religious  party.  11  ; 
experiences  of  the  second  exi-edi- 
tion  to  the  New  Worbl.  12-ir.  ; 
.,,..„pation  of  Kh.rida,  12  :  Louis 
XV.    revives    the    j^rsecution  of, 

311. 
//,.,W«r,  the,  in  Canada,  1.3. 

"  Hundred   Associates,  Company  of, 

the,"  120. 
"  Hunter."  the.  .it  Quebec,  437. 
Hur.m  Indians,  the,  Cli.amplain  joins 

them  against  the  Iro.,uois.  9;. ;  a.l- 
vantages  to  Champlain  from  alli- 
ance with,  95 ;  the  Iroquois  on  the 

^var.patll  for,  142;  try  to  defend 
St.  Louis  against  the  Iroquo.s, 
144-  repulse  the  Irixiuois  from 
SainteMarie,  146;  valiant  defence 
of  St.  Louis,  UG;  fatuity,  not 
cowardice,  the  ruin  of  147  ;  Lest 
hope  of  the  Canadian  Mission  fell 


I  I 


I  ndc  V 


527 


with,  I. VI;  at  the  Long  Rant,  100; 
ileiu'rt  Danliic,  M'ri  ;  from  Lorcttp, 
inviti'il  to  join  a;;;iin^t  tliu  Moluiwk 
towns,  'IM;  at  Kort  I >u  <^nt'Hni', 
34."> ;  of  Lorutti',  ut  Kort  du  l^ufitni-, 
:W>. 
IlutehiuK,  Kn.»i<{n,  i'io. 


Imkrvillk,  !<<■  Muri|iiiit  i|',  founds 
l.ouixiana,  'i'J'2. 

Illinois,  (iri'at  Tohu  of  the,  I'.t'.t; 
ilfst-rtcil,  I'J'J  ;  ha  Salli-  at,  JiM. 

Illinois  IJivcr,  tin",  .lolitt  and  Mar- 
«|ni'tl<?  on,  191  ;  La  Sulli-  on,  I'JT. 

India,  Kn^laiid  gains  llif  nianlurv  of, 
.ItKJ  ;  KrfiK'li  losses  in,  4.').'>. 

Indians,  the,  attark  and  kill  I'onrc 
dc  Loon,  0;  treatnnMit  rcfiMvcd 
from  Dc  Soto,  8  ;  friendly  ri'ro|itii)n 
to  Coligiiv's  eolonists.  l.'l  ;  meeting 
with  CarliiT,  72  ;  of  lloelielaga, 
7.");  power  of  dreams  among,  'J2  ; 
worsliip  of  tlie  Maiiitou,  lO'J; 
alarmed  liy  the  n|>|ie:iranee  of  the 
Frenrh  in  the  Ohio  Valley,  a.'lM; 
disgtisleil  hy  tho  eiieroaelimi'nts 
of  the  IVMn»yhania  .'I'W ;  di- 
vided into  several  g  families, 
4t>i) ;  jiromine':!  ehar:  'islies  of, 
4tiO;  trilial  (  -iile,  I'll  .  ineir  sach- 
em-'. 4*'>1  ,  liir'r  laAS  of  inhi'ritanee, 
4til  ;  their  'li'inel  ion  lKHv<'en  tiio 
il  and  nil:  t'_  untliority,  A>V2; 
■  tions  of  tl.  ir  war  ehief,  4('>i' ; 
Hingnlarly  free  from  wiangliiigs 
and  potty  strife,  4t')2  ;  disliiu't  elans 
among,  4)i.'< ;  totems  of,  4tVi ;  their 
restrictions  regarding  intermar- 
riage, 4t).'J ;  religious  belief  of,  407  ; 
eharieter  of,  40S  ;  their  -.tern  pliys- 
iognomy,  40'.l ;  revenge  an  over- 
powering iristinet  with,  40'J;  loathe 
tin;  thought  of  ooereiou,  40'.1 ;  de- 
vout liero-worshippers,  4l'i9  ;  love 
of  glory,  40'J  ;  their  distrust  and 
jeahxisy,  4^9;  their  sell'-eoiitrol, 
470;  their  |ieeuliar  iiileliect,  470; 
hewn  out   of  roek,  471  ;   pergonal 


merit  indispmsahie  to  power 
among,  470  ;  I'ontiae's  eonspiraey, 
478 ;  military  eiipneity  of.  479 ; 
their  reverenie  for  agi-,  479  ;  their 
inveterate  passion  for  war.  4H|  ; 
ditlieult  f(M'S  to  tight,  4M|  ;  held  ill 
Kupreme    eontempt    hy    Amherst, 

Intendant  of  Canada,  the  |iow«rs  uf, 

1 09  ;   ' 

erno 
Invc- 


i.iiions   with   tlin  (iov- 

109. 
.1  of,  .172. 


Irish.    ,  .'eiinsvlvaiiia,  .'1'.'4. 

lr'>i|Uol.s  Inilians.  the,  Champlain 
j(jins  tlu;  Huron  ami  Algo,ii|uins 
against,  9."i  ;  on  the  war-path  for 
tho  llurons,  \V> ;  attack  St  Ignace, 
14.'1 ;  repuLsed  from  Sainle  Marie 
hy  the  llurons,  140;  liurn  St.  Ig- 
naie,  147  ;  the  ruin  of  the  Jesuits' 
hopes,  I.'i4  ;  delit  of  Liliorty  t», 
l.'it ;  make  peace  with  the  French, 
l.'i.'t;  l>aulac's  evpedition  against, 
l."i7  ;  their  encounter  with  Danlae 
at  th>  Long  Sailt,  lOO;  suu  for 
j)ea(e,  101  ;  tho  iuvasioti  of  the, 
a.'io  •>:i:i ;  their  attack  on  Verchi'res, 
24'!  ;  l'ic|uet's  inlluence  over,  .'12S  ; 
make  a  trenty  with  the  Knglish  at 
Alhaiiy,  :w.). 

Isle  auxComlres,  DureH's  Heet  ar- 
rives at,  .'i.S.'i ;  ordered  to  be  evacu- 
ated, .■ISC. 

Islc'-anx-Noix,  tho  French  retire  to, 
;t.s|,  .3S'.>  ;  4J0. 

I.sle  d' ( trleans,  ordered  to  he  evacu- 
ated .■t80 ;  see  also  OiUtiiis,  the 
Isldinl  (>!'. 


James  IL,  of  Kngl.ind,  ilriven  from 
bis  kingilom,  'J.'t.'t  ;  trieii  to  unite 
the  northern  American  colonie:*. 

Jam.iy,  Uonis,  1 14. 

•loannin,  I'residcnt,  107. 

.lorvis,  John,  see  St.  Viiirml,  Karl. 

.Icsiiits,  the,  the  HecoUets  apply  for 
the  assi>taiice  of,  120;  in  ( 'an.ida, 
rjO;   Canadian    n '•"■ions   a.ssigued 


'^^ 


(Hi.; 


52S 


Index 


t.,  mo;  the  pionrors  in  Northern 
America,  i:iO;  futility  of  the.r  ■....- 
Inarv  efforts.  13.V,  lead  the  vu. 
of  French  col,mi/.ati..n,  Wi ;  xtam'i 
and  steadf^ust  auxiliar.c.  of  l>e 
i„.,,erial  power,  l.'U;  cause  of  the 

V  f     1M-    tiielr    fintli   "ot 

failnre   of,    la*.    '•'"^"  ,.  , 

shaken.^:.;  decide  to  estahh^h_a 

.oh.nvamongtheOnonda^'as,    oo, 
Jarful     ta>k     essav.d      •>;/-• 

frinl.tf.d    position     of,    1>'>.     •'•' 
Sarie-slifeamon-:.l'.».V,at(iuehec, 

.•i'.K?. 
"Jesus,"  the,  22. 
.Joachims,  the,  rapids  of,  U-. 

.lofxues,  Katlier  Isaac,  356. 
.Johnson,  Fort,  3G2. 
.Johus.m  Hall,  32'J.  330. 

.Johnson,   Serjeant     •'"''"•""    'f 
lovaltv  of  the  army  to  Wolfe.  4.3- 

.Johnson,    Sir     William,    comes     to 
America,  329;  his  trade  w.th  the 

L.diaMs,  32.J;  made  a  Major- 
(leneral.  330;  wins  the  battle  of 
I,ake  Ceor-e,  3.30;  raised  to  the 
rank  of  l.aronet,  330;  appon.ted 
•  superintendent  of  Indian  -ffarrs. 
XW;  captures  Fort  Niagara,  .530 , 
a,.ath  of,  .^l;  sketch  of,  331;  Ins 
..rious  defects,  .331;  Ins  mluence, 

r.i\  ■  endiarrasses  Piquet,  332, 
oharsed  with  the  expedition 
against  Crown  Toint,  3..1  ;  at" 
Lacked  hv  Dieskau,  352  ;  the  battle 
of  Lake  George,  3r.3-355  ;  cap- 
tures Fort  Niagara,  281. 
Johnstone,  Chevalier,  at  Quebec,  401, 

402 :  on  Montcalm's  agitation,  440. 
Johnstown,  the  village  of,  329. 
J.diet,  Louis,  sent  by  Tal.m  to  dis 
cover  the    Mississipjn,   18fi  ;  early 
historvof,  isf,;  chara.teristics  of, 
186-  'Maniuctte    chosen    to    ac- 
company him   on  his    search    for 
the    Mississippi,    186;    the   Missis- 
sippi at  la.st,   191  ;  on  the   Missis- 
sippi.  191 ;   at  the  mouth  of     he 
MiUmri,    192;    determines     th.at 
ilie  Mississippi  discharges  into  the 


Gulf  of  Mexico,  193;  resolves  to 
return  to  Canada,  193. 
Jones,  Josiah.  wounded    by  the  1  e- 

(luawkets,  294. 
J„ihereau.soeS,./»f  /y-o^'.^^""'" 

Jucliemin  d,  ■  . 

JumonviUe.M..  sent  against  \V..s, 

ington,  336  ;  surprised    by   W  ash 
i„.ton,  3.37;  death  of,  .33, 
J,„Jmville(brotherl,  attacks  Wash- 

i„,.to,,  at  the  Great  Meadows,  .»., 

Washington  caj.itulates  with,  .M-. 


KAMornASKV,  87. 

Kankakee  Uiver,  the,  299. 

Kauon,  tleet  of,  384. 

Ka,.pa  Band,  the,  of  the  Arkansas. 

''10 
Ka'skaskia,  Illinois  village  of.  194. 
KeniiebecUiver,  the,  .321. 
Keves,  .^oloinon,  mortally  wounded 

In-  the  l'e.iuawkets.  293. 
ICiddcr.  Benjamin,  on  the  expeditions 

of    Captain   John    Lovewell,  falls 
seriously  ill,  290,  „ 

KiUick,  master  of  the  "  Goodwill. 

390. 

Kirk,  Uavid,  121. 

liirk,  Louis,  121. 

Kirk,  Thoma-s,  121. 

Knox,  Captain  John,  at  Fort  Cum- 
berland, 369  ;  on  the  provincials  m 
WNdfe's  expedition  to  the  St.  Law- 
rence 369  ;  in  the  harbor  of  Louis- 
bour-,  370  ;  on  board  the  "  Good- 
will  "390  ;  at  tlie  Island  of  Oilcans 
.■,9.1'.  on  the  failure  of  the  French 
fireships.  .396  ;  at  Point  Levi,  398 ; 
on  the  desertions  of  the  Canadians, 

40.-)  •  cm  Wolfe's  severities,  409  ;  on 
Vaudreuil's  attempt  to  burn  the 
Kn-lish  fleet,  409  ;  on  the  illness 
of  Wolfe,  421  ;  on  the  death  of 
Wolfe,  446. 


Lx  BoNTfe,  246. 
Labrador,    31  ;    Cartier 
shores  of ,  7 1 . 


coasts    the 


SMSKIS^WHT? 


Index 


529 


L.1  Caille,  Franvois  do,  ■)2  ;  interview 
with  .Mcnpmit'z,  52. 

La  (Mieiiaic,  87. 

J^a  Coriii',  Saint-Luc  ili',  aclvises  tlio 
fortifyiiif^  of  Crown  Point,  a'J8  ; 
sent  to  tlie  St.  Lawrence,  .'J8U. 

La  Cliine,  Fort  at,  2.iO,  47.3. 

lia  Conception,  Mis.-iion  of,  14."). 

Lalitau,  loo. 

La  Fre.sMiiTc,  Sieur  ile,  at  Crown 
I'oint,  a'J8. 

La(iali.ssoniero,  Marqiii.sde,  governor 
ot'C'auailii,  .'il.'). 

1.1a  Grange,  Captain,  council  of  war, 
37. 

La  Houtaii,  Haron,  on  tiic  manner!) 
of  tiio  Indians,  262. 

l^a  .lonijuiere,  governor  of  Canada, 
258. 

Lake  Goorge,  the  battle  of,  .3.30,  ,351, 
352,  35.3,  355 ;  Jogiies  on,  35C ; 
Montcalm  on,  36.3 ;  Al)ercroml)ie 
at,  364. 

Lalemant,  110,  120;  physical  weak- 
nc.s.s  of,  151. 

La  Monncrie,  Lieutenant  de,  247. 

La  Mothc-Cadillac,  Antoiuo  de,  at 
Michillimackinac,  265 ;  hi;!  plan 
for  a  settlement  at  Detroit  oppo.sed 
by  Chamjjigny,  267  ;  sails  for 
France,  267  ;  interview  with  Pont- 
chartrain,  267 ;  his  letter  to  La 
Touche,  267  ;  I'ontchartrain  accepts 
his  plan,  26S  ;  his  return  to  Canada, 
268 ;  l.ay.s  tlie  foundation  for 
Detroit,  268  ;  his  letters  to  Pont- 
chartnain,  26'J  ;  Detroit  given  over 
to,  270. 

La  Jlotte,  101. 

Lancaster,  village  of,  attacked  by  the 
French  and  Indi.aus,  289. 

L'Ange  Gardien,  the  pari.sh  of,  400  ; 
burned  by  Wolfe,  417. 

Langlade,  Charles,  the  parti.'<.an,  at 
(iueboc,  401. 

Languedoc,  441. 

La  Xoue,  le.ads  an  expedition  against 
the  Moh.iwk  towns.  2.50. 

La  Peltrie,  Madame  de,  joins  Maison- 


U 


neuve,  137  ;  arrival  .it  .Montreal, 
1.38. 

la  I'rc'.sont.ation,  2.3(». 

I'Archevcipie,  murders  Moranget, 
Saget,  and  Nika,  217  ;  assas.sinatiou 
of  La  Salle,  21U. 

a  Heine,  Fort  di;,  25S. 

a  Uoche,  Manpiis  de,  plans  to 
coloui/.e  New  France,  81  ;  expedi- 
tion sets  out,  81  ;  lands  convicts  on 
Sable  Islam!,  81  ;  returns  to  France, 
81. 

.a  Koutte,  97. 

la  Salle,  Robert  Cavelier  de,  at  Fort 
Frontenac,  195  ;  his  resolve  to  trace 
the  Mi.s.-iissipjii  to  its  source,  195  ; 
his  life  among  the  Jesuits,  195 ; 
austerity  of  his  ii.iture,  195;  the 
preparations  for  his  expedition, 
196;  builils  ,t  fort  on  the  Niagara, 
196;  buihis  the  "Griffin,"  196;  on 
Lake  Michigan,  196;  builds  a  fort 
at  St.  Joseph,  196  ;  pushes  into  the 
unknown  region  of  the  Illinois, 
196 ;  di.siisters,  196 ;  loss  of  the 
"Griffin,"  196;  his  return  to 
Canada,  197;  h.ardihood  of,  198; 
his  winter  journey  to  Fort  Fron. 
tenac,  199;  the  deserted  town  of 
tlie  Illinois,  199;  meeiing  with 
Chief  Chassagoac,  200;  "Starved 
Rock,"  200;  Lake  Michigan,  201 ; 
the  wilderness,  201,  202  ;  Indian 
alarms,  202  ;  re,aches  Niagara,  204 ; 
man  and  nature  in  arms  .against, 
205  ;  mutineers  at  Fort  Crevecwur, 
206 ;  chastisement  of  the  mutineers, 
207  ;  among  the  Arkansa.*  Indians, 
210;  the  mouth  of  the  Missis.-iippi, 
211 ;  takes  ])ossession  of  the  Great 
West  for  France,  212;  his  return 
to  Canada,  214  ;  returns  to  France, 
214;  sets  out  to  plant  a  colony, 
214;  the  project  blighted  by  je.al- 
OMsy,  214:  lands  in  Texas.  214; 
his  murder,  214  ;  bestows  the  name 
of  Louisi.an.a  on  the  new  domain, 
214;  Liotot  swears  vengeance 
against,  21. '5;  the  nmrder  of  Mor- 


1 


ii  -1 
1" 


Index 


\'. 


h 

« .  1 


530 

i«.«ot,  R^Srt,  an.l  Xika,  217;  his 
,,rt.m..niuouof  .li.;vsUT,al8;  im.r- 
lu.rea  l.v  Duluiut,  il'.f,  ilwinuter 
of  •)•>()•  liis  cntliusiiism  as  coiii- 
m'rcTNviilithat..fCl.ami.lain  2-JO; 

his  .l.-fi'ot«.  ^^l;  tl..,  ii.arvcls  of 
hi.,,iUu-ntfortitu.le,-JJl;  Amc-rua 
„wes   him  an  cuaurin-   mt-mory. 

I,aSarrc,  441. 

La  'r.mclie,  letter  from  Ca.hUac  to, 

Laml.mnibrc,   liond   ilc,    K. ;    ori^'in, 
IC;     roinmamls      exptMlitiou      to 
Fh'.ri.hi.   16;   .lescriptiou    of     1'.; 
first  s.-ht  of  Florida,  16  ;  scloois 
site  lor  the  new  colony,  17  ;  Imihls 
a  fort,  18;  aiscouteiit  aniotis,'   the 
followers  of,    18;   coiuinissiou   cx- 
torlea  from,  for  West  lu.lia  cruise, 
1<»-  capture  of  the  mutineers,  l.t; 
court-martial  of  tlic  mutineers,  l'.»  j 
tlirealen.Ml  starvation,  20;  relieved 
l,v    Sir    Joiiu    Hawkins.   22;    ar- 
rival  of   Kil.aut,   25;   reciairc.l  to 
resi.'ii  his  comman.l,  20;  determines 
to  return  to   France  to  clear  Ins 
name,  26;  council  of  war,  3,  ;  de- 
fenceless condition  of  Fort  Caro- 
line, .'la  ;  escape  from  the  massacre 
of  Fort  Caroline,  42. 
L.iudoiiniero,  Vale  of,  17. 
Laurent,  20. 

L.iurentian  Mountains,  the,  2J4. 
Lauson,  Jean  do,  130. 
Laval-Montmorency,  Francois  XavuT 
dc  liishop  at  Quebec,  223;  ipiarrels 
wi'th   Ar-cnson.    223,    estal.lishes 
a    seminary     at      Quehec,     223; 
Me/.y  in   ojijiosition   to,   223  ;   the 
l,ran"dy    quarrel      223;     portraits 
of,    224 ;    characteristics    of,   224, 
'>->,^) ;   Colhert,  the  true  anta!?onist 
of,  220 ;   <iuarrels  with  Argcnson, 
'>20. 
LaVal's  Seminary,  at  Quebec,  223. 
I,ii  ViTcndrye,  expedition  of,  257. 
La  Vij;ue.  3;). 
Laviolcttc,  243 


LeBfTuf,  Fort,  Washington  at,  .1.30; 

French  and  Indians  at,  38l». 
Le  Brun,  the  frescoes  of,  3t)'J. 
LeCaron,  .Joseph,  tlio  tirst  mass,  114. 
LeClerc,  U'J. 

Lc.Ieune,  I'aul,  the  .Jesuit,  100, 123. 
Lc  Moyne,  43,  44. 
Lenfant,  310. 
Le|.aim,  310. 

Levi,  the  heishts  of,  2.34. 
Levi      I'oint,     88,    3'J7 ;    seized    I'V 
Wolfe.    3'.>8;    400,    402,    403,    404, 
40,-.,   400,   410,   411.  412,   414. 
Levis,  Chevalier  de,  at  Quebec,  400, 
401,402;  his  preparations  for  de- 
fence, 412;    (iuebec   weakened   by 
the   .absence   of,   420;   learns   that 
Quebec   has  snrrcndcreil,  440;   at 
Jacques  Cartier,  446  ;  attacked  by 
Murray,   447;   arks   for   aid    from 
France,  447  ;  exchanges  courtesies 
with  Murray,  448;  de>trii.'Mm  of 
his  shil-s,  4.W;  raises  the   -lege  of 
Quebec,  450  ;  his  retreat,  450. 
Liotot,   La    Salle's    sur-eon,    swears 
vengeance   against   La  Salle,   21. >; 
murders     Moianj:et.     Sa-et,    and 
Nikra,  217;   assassination   of    I-a 
Salle,' 219. 
Loire  IJiver,  the,  13. 
LoiKlon,  306. 
Long  Island,  101. 

Lon<-  Saut,  the,  Ilapids  of,  108;  en- 
counter  of    Daulac   with  the    Iro- 
(luois  at,  100. 
Longueiiil,  Lc  Moyne  dcescajie  from 
tiie  Iroquois,  231  ;  at  Quebec,  23;.. 
Lonsdale,  Lord,  370. 
Loudon,  Earl  of,  451. 

Louis  xm,  ""fit  to  K'"'"'""' •?'-;, 

Louis  XIV.,  alone  supreme  in  t-m- 
n,la  171  :  the  roureur.o  de  hois  an 
object  of  horror  to,  180;  pro- 
claimed by  La  Salle  the  sovereign 
of  the  Croat  West,  212. 

Touis  W.,  breaks  the  traditionary 
policy  of  France,  302;  America 
owes"  much  to  the  imbecility  of, 
302;  his  generals,  .308 ;  revi\es  the 


Index 


531 


persecution  of  tlio  Ilngncnots, 
311;  tlio  manifold  ills*  of  France 
summed  up  in,  31:2 ;  description  of, 
312;  stints  Madame  de  Tompa- 
dour  in  notlung,  313. 

Loui!tlx>urg,  cajttured  by  the  Euglisli, 
363,  369  ;  Wolfe's  fleet  at,  370, 378. 

Lo-  jsbonrg  Grenadiers,  the,  on  the 
Heights  of  Abraham,  439,  443. 

Louisiana,  name  bestowed  by  La 
Salle,  214;  extent  of,  214;  Iwuu- 
daries  of,  214;  founded  by  Iber- 
ville, 222  ;  266,  314. 

Louisville,  334. 

Louvigny,  in  command  at  Michilli- 
mackinac,  inhumanity  of,  261. 

Lovewell,  Captain  John,  raises  a 
company  to  hunt  Indians,  289; 
his  expeditions,  28U-29."i ;  seri- 
ously wounded,  291  ;  attacked  by 
the  Pequawkets,  292;  burial  of, 
296. 

Lovewell,  Hannah,  288. 

I^vewell's  Pond,  288. 

Lower  Town  (Quebec),  the,  set  on 
fire  by  the  English  batteries,  420 ; 
vVolfes  plan  to  attack,  421. 

"  Lowestoffe,"  the,  brings  relief  to 
Quebec,  448. 

Lowtlier,  Katherine,  betrothed  to 
Wolfe,   376,   43.5. 

Loyola,  Ignatius  de,  the  mysterious 
followers  of,  120. 

Lutherans,  the,  in  Pennsylvania,  324 ; 
in  New  York,  324. 

"Lys,"  the,  captured  by  the  Eng- 
lish, 340. 


Maciiailt,  the  minister,  310. 

Mackellar,  Major  Patrick,  at  (Quebec, 
393. 

Maillcbois,  Marcchal  de,  308. 

Mnisonneuve,  Sicnr  de,  Incomes  sol- 
dier-governor of  the  Hundred  As- 
sociates, 136;  jealousy  of  Moni.- 
magny  towards,  137 ;  refuses  to 
remain  at  Quebec,  137;  builds 
boats  to  ascend  to  Montreal,  137 ; 


joined  by  Madame  do  la  Peltric, 
137  ;  the  spirit  of  (Jodfrey  de  Bouil- 
hm  lived  again  in,  139;  arrival  at 
Montreal,  139;  the  infancy  of 
Montreal,    140. 

Malta,  Knights  of,  55. 

Mance,  Jeanne,  137. 

Manitoualins,  the  spirit  haunted,  118. 

Mantel,  D'Ailleboust  de,  leads  the 
expedition  against  the  Mohawk 
towns,  250. 

Marais,  93,  97. 

Marest,  Father,  the  Jesuit,  aversion 
of  Cadillac  for,  265. 

Maricourt,  at  Quebec,  235. 

Marigalante,  the  Island  of,  restored 
by  England,  454. 

Marie,  Sieur  de,  murders  Moranget, 
217. 

Marquette,  Father  Jacques,  second 
discovery  of  the  Mississippi,  8; 
discovers  the  Mississippi,  131  ; 
chosen  to  accompany  Joliot  in 
his  search  for  the  Mississippi, 
186;  early  life  of,  187;  traits  of 
character,  187;  journal  of  his  voy- 
age to  the  Mississippi,  187;  at  the 
(ireen  Bay  Mission,  189;  among 
the  Mascoutins  and  Miainis,  18S ;  on 
the  Wisconsin  River,  190;  reaches 
the  Mississippi  at  last,  191 ;  on  the 
Mississippi,  191 ;  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Missouri,  192  ;  determines  that 
the  Mississippi  discharges  into  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  193;  resolves  to 
return  to  Canada,  193;  illness  of, 
19.3. 
Martin,  Abraham,  439. 
Martiniciue,  restored  by  the  English, 

4.54. 
Maryland,  the  colony  of,  319,  325. 
Mascoutins,  the,  joined  by  the  Kicka- 
poos,   189;    visitwl   by  Marquette, 
189;  La  Salle  falls  in  with,  203. 
Massachu-wtts,  colony  of,  .1nd»  herself 
in  extremity,  242  ;  issues  a  paper 
cnrrcncy,  242  ;  dcscri,   'a  of,  3i9; 
almost  independent  01  ihe  mother 
countrv,  320. 


■r? 


^ri 


532 


Index 


Masse.  KiiPTnoncl,  120. 

Matanziia  Inlet,  1:2.  47. 

Matehedach   IJav  of,  I  IK. 

Alatlawan,  tlie,  117. 

Maiiliiee  Kiver,  tlie,  2'.»9. 

MauritiiLs,      Island     of,     owned     hy 

France,  .'lOS. 
May,  Kiver  of,  13,  IH,  2:;,  2f>,  .-^.S. 
May  port,  villa;;C  of,  17,  :>X. 
M  ■Gregory,  Major,  attempts  to  trade 
with  the  Indians,  258;  imprisoned 
by  the  Freutii,  258. 
Meeeh,    Lieutenant,    hinds    on     the 

I.shmd    of   Orleans,   3'J2. 
Meloehe,  4^0,  497. 
Mendoza,  tirajales  Fmnciseo    Lopez 

de,  .36. 
Meneiidoz     do     Avili'S,   Pedro,    boy- 
hood of,  28 ;  early  career  of,  28  ; 
petition   to    l'iiilii>    II.,  28;   com- 
iiii-ssioned  to  con(iucr  Fhirida,  2'J  ; 
powers  granted    to,  2'J  ;  jdans  of, 
2'.»;  foreo  strengthened,  30;  anew 
crusade,    30 ;    formation     of    liis 
force,  32 ;   Sanchos  do    Arciniega 
commissioned  to  join,  32 ;  sailing 
of  the   expedition,  33;    haste    to 
reach  Florida,  33;   first    sight  of 
Florida,  34  ;  first  sigiit  of  Uibaufs 
ships,    34 ;     interview     with     the 
French.  35  ;    the   French  ttco   be- 
fore, 36  ;  founds  St.  A  ugustiue,  36  ; 
takes   formal   ])ossessiou  of    Flor- 
ida, 36  ;  attack  on  Fort  Carcdine, 
42;  the  ma.s.s.icre,  43,  44,  45;  tid- 
ings of  the  French,  46  ;  interview 
with  the  French,  47 ;   promises  of 
protection,  47  ;   treachery   of,  49  ; 
massacre  of  the  French,  50  ;  inter- 
view   with    RHiaut,    52;     further 
trcadiery  and  murder,  53,  54. 
Mercator,  Geranl,  map  of,  71. 
Mercer,  Colonel  Hugh,  death  of,  360. 
"  Mer  Douce,"  the,  118. 
Merrimac  Uiver,  the,  289. 
Messier.  206. 
Mexico,  Gulf  of,  9,  195. 
Mezy.  Saffray  de,  governor  of  Que 
bee,  323. 


Miamis,  tlie,  joined  by  the  Kickapoos, 

189  ;   visited  by  Maniuette,  189. 
Micliigan,  Lake,  La  Salle  on,  201. 
Michillimackinac,  the  ciiief  resort  of 
the  coiirniis  de  Ixks,  lai ;  thc.Iesnit 
mission  of,  265  ;   La  Mothe-C'adil- 
lac   at,    265 ;    Rogers    orilered    to 
take  |iosse.ssion  of,  473. 
Micniae  Indians,  the,  317. 
Minorc.i,  garrison  of,  308;  restored 

by  F.ance  to  Kngland,  455. 
Miquelon,  the  i.slaud  of,  454. 
Mirepoix,  the     French   amiiassailor, 
retires  from  the  court  of  Lon<h)n, 
.341. 
Missis>ippi  Uiver,  tlio,  discovered  by 
De  Soto,  8;  discovery  of,  by  Mar- 
quette, 8,  131 ;    ManpK^tte  chosen 
to  accompany  .fcdiet,  186;  the  <lis- 
covery   by   .lolict   and   Maniuetto, 
191  ;   its   outlet    inti)   the   (Julf  of 
Mexico  determined  by  J(diet  and 
M.'inpiette,  193;  La  Salle's  resolve 
to  trace  to  its  mouth,  li>5 ;  454,  476, 
482. 
Mississippi,  St.ate  of,  8. 
Mississip])i  Valley,  the,  po.sts  of  the 
coitreitrs  tie  hois  in,  183;   La  Salle 
takes  formal  pos.sessiou  of,  212. 
Mituvemeg,  Chief,  159. 
Mtd)ilian  group,  the,  composition  of, 

464. 
Mohawk  Indians,  the,  on   the  war- 
path for    the    Hurons,    142;    the 
.Jesuits  spare  no  pains  to  coavert, 
249. 
Mohawk   towns,  the,  French    expe- 
dition planned  against,  250;  caji- 
tured  by  the  French,  251. 
Mohawk,  the,  valley  of,  101. 
Mouckton,  Lieuteuant-Colonel  Rob- 
ert, quickly  reduces  Acadia,  351  ; 
iu    Wolfe's    expedition,    379;     at 
Quebec.  398,  409  ;    his  proclama- 
tion, 398;   letter   from    Wolfe   to, 
421  ;  on  the  Heights  of  Abraham, 
440  :  at  Fort  Pitt,  474. 
Monongahela  River,  the,  Washing- 
tou  fortifies  himself  on,  336. 


Index 


533 


Montaj^nais  Indian!*,  '.ho,  9fi. 
Montcalm,  Marcjiiis  of,  7:i ;  captures 
Fort  William  lieury,  30.1;  at  Ti. 
conderoga,  363  ;  liaslens  to  l^iic- 
bec,  384  ;  location  of  his  troops, 
386;  his  h<-a(l<|uartcr.4,  -T) ;  his 
relative  position  to  Vauiln  nil,  3S«; 
394,  3!tj;  favored  by  the  elements' 
3U3;  tries  the  virtues  of  his  lire- 
sliips,  3'.»6 ;  his  letters  to  Monrla- 
maiiue,  3'J7  ;  his  defensive  attitinie, 
4  )5  ;  forced  to  weaken  his  iiriny  at 
B^auport,  406  ;  refuses  to  fight  on 
Wolfe's  terms,  410;  attacked  by 
Wolfe,  411  ;  his  perplexity,  4' J; 
let  the  parishes  bi'rn,  418;  423, 
424;  passes  a  troulded  m'ght,  440; 
the  alarm,  441 ;  gathers  his  army 
together,  441  ;  hisama/.ement,  441 ; 
Vaudreuil  delays  sending  his  forces 
to  join,  442 ;  a  council  of  war,  442 ; 
alternatives,  442  ;  the  crisis,  444  ; 
his  defeat,  444 ;  mortally  wounded, 
446  ;  jives  I'outiac  marks  of  his 
esteem,  477. 
Montesquieu,  31.3. 
Montgomery,  72. 
Montgomery,     Captain     .\lex.jjder, 

cruelty  of,  417. 
Montluc,  Blaise  de,  56. 
Montmagny,    Charles     I^.^anlt     de, 
jealousy  towards  M.aisonneuve,  137. 
Mont   Martre-   the   H'-''^  House  of, 

129. 
Montmorenci,    lie  catp-^ct  of,  234 ; 
the  falls  of,   386,    392,    394,    400, 
401,   402,  403,  404,  405,  410,  4H, 
■*  12 ;  repulse  of  the  English  at,  413. 
Montmorenci,    the     Heights  of,   re- 
pulse of  the  Euglisli  at,  415,  422; 
occupied  by  Wolfe,  421,  4,52. 
Montreal,  Dauversiere  commanded  to 
e8tal)lish  a  Hotel-Dieu  at,  135;  Olier 
commanded  to  form  a  society  of 
priests  at,  135  ;  arriv.-il  of  Maison- 
neuve  at,  139;  the  birth  of,   140; 
local  government  at,  169  ;  182,  419, 
473. 
Moranget,  La  Sally's  ne])hew,  quar- 


rels with  Duhaut,  215;  murder  of, 
217. 

Moravians,  the,  in  Pennsylvania,  .324. 

Murray,  Bri(,'adier,  in  Wolfs  e.\pe- 
dition,379  ;  repulsed  at  I'ointe-aut- 
'Ireinbles,  418;  at  Deschanil.anlt, 
418;  letter  from  Wolfe  to,  421; 
fords  tht;  Ktcchemin,  427  ;  on  the 
Heights  of  Abraham,  440;  alter- 
natioi-  447  ;  attacks  L«^is,  447  ; 
the  I)  ,|c,  447;  exchanges  cour- 
tesies witli  Levis,  448;  relief  ar- 
rives, 448. 


Narraoa\8ktt    Swamp  Fight,  the, 
288. 

Narvacz,  I'amphilo  de,  expedition  to 
Horida,  7. 

Nash,  Beau,  306. 

Nassau  Kiver,  the,  62. 

Natel,  Aatoine,  90. 

Necessity,  Fort,  430. 

"  Neptune,"  the  377. 

Neutral  Natio-,,  the,  1 1 9. 

Newcastle,  Duke  of,   307  ;   Wolfe  a 
'•opelesi',  enigma  to,  376,  431. 

New  England,  conipi\red  with  New 
France,  2 ;  Vaudreai'  sends  a  large 
war-pf..rty  against,  272;  the  Abe- 
nakis  spurred  on  by  the  French 
against,  272 ;  most  military  among 
the  British  colonies,  321  ;  lK>rue 
the  heaviest  brunt  of  the  pre>  eding 
wars,  321  ;  in  the  capture  of  Louis- 
bourg,  322;  Virginia  contrasted 
with,  322 ;  native  literature  of, 
322;  essentia)  .-'tagonism  of  Vi- 
ginia  and,  3i:  rong  di.stiuctivo 

character  of,  ■         510. 

New    England      i{angers,     the,     at 

Quebec,  392,  398,  404. 
New  England  troops,  the,  in  John- 
son's   expedition    against    Crown 
Point,  .351. 
Newfoundl.ind,  32  ;  Cartier  sails  for, 

69  ;  the  banks  of,  340,  4.54. 
New   France,   compart'd    with    New 
England,  2;    De  Cliastcs'  expedi- 


ill 


'1 


534 


Index 


ti..n  to.  82  ;  to  I  c  forever  free  from 
the  taint  of  lu-n'xy,  121 ;  K.rk 
wrests  power  from,  121;  l«un- 
aari.s of. 314  ; hiiidranies to ^'rowth 
of.  315;  built  on  the  priiuiple  of 
exclusion,  316. 
New  France.  Compau/  of,  see  linn- 

drid  AsiKx-i'iie^i  the. 
New  Hampshire  Hangers,  the,  35.)- 
New  Jersey,  .,uarrel  between  New 
York  and,  2'J8  ;  the  colony  of,  J2a. 
New  Mexici-,  9.  .      ,  u 

New  Orleans,  the  city  of,  retained  by 
France,  454 ;  made  over  to  ^pain, 

New  Oswego,  location  of.  359  ;  burned 
bv  the  French,  362. 

New  York,  Talon  urges  the  purchase 
or  seizure  of,  179;  quarrels  w.th 
New  Jersey,  298;   iescriptiou  of, 

325. 
New  York  rangers,  the,  355. 
New  York  troops,  the,  in  Johnson  s 

expedition  against   Crown  Point, 

351 
Nia-'ara,  Frcuh  post  established  at, 
257;  Fort,  c.iptured  by  Johnson, 
330;  the  Ki.glidi  plan  to  attack, 
343  •  failure  of  the  expedition,  3;>1  ; 
rrideauxs  plan  to  .attack,  380: 
captured  bv  the  English,  380,  419; 
attacked  by  the  English,  405;  sends 

Dalzell  to  reinforce  Detroit,  492. 
Nii"ara  Uiver.  the.  I.a  Salle  on,  196. 
Nika.  La  Salle's  favorite  Shawanoe 

hunter,  munlor  of,  217. 
Nipis.<ing  Indians,  the,  village  of,  11/. 
Nortli   America,   England   gains  the 
mastery  of,  303  ;  claimed  by  1-  ranee, 
308. 
North  Carolina,  the  colony  of,  326. 
Nottawassaga  Bay,  118. 
Nova  Scotia,  378,  452. 


Captain,    killed 


OCIITEKI.ON'Y, 

Quebec,  414.  . 

Ohio  Company,  the,  organization  ol, 

334. 


Ohio  Indians,  the,  trade  with  Penn- 

sUvauia.   -'58. 
Ohio    Uiv.r,    the.   the    "Beautiful 

Uiver,"  192,476. 
Oiibwiis,  the,  at  Fort  Du  Quesne. 

345  ;  475,  492  ;  at  Bloody  Bridge, 

EjI. 

Old  Lorette,  4*2. 
Old  Oswego,  see  /V,  'x-n-c//,  tort. 
Olier,  Jean  Jac(iue«,  meeting   with 
Dauversiere,  135 ;  jiroposes  to  foun.l 
three     religious    communities    at 
Montreal.  135. 
Olotoraca,  61,  62. 
Oneida,  Lake,  119. 
Onondaga,  Iroquois  Indians,  the  the 
Jesuits  decide  to  establish  a  colony 
among,  155. 
Onondaga,  the    I^ke  of,  256;    the 
Valley  of,  101 ;  great  council-house 
in  the  Valley  of,  465. 
Ontario,  Fort,  burned  by  the  French, 

Ontario.  Lake,  Champlain  on    119, 
2.58;  Briidstreet  on,  384  ;  "Rogeis 
Hangers  "  on.  473. 
Orleans,  the  Islan.l  of,  88,  386;  the 

English  land  on.  392,  397. 
Orleans,  the  Point  of,  English  out- 
post at,  396,  402  ;  404,  414. 
Orrv,  comptroller-general,  turned  out 

by  Madame  de  Pompadour,  312. 
Os.-iipee,  Lake,  290. 
Oswego,  its  cstiiblishmcnt  alarms  the 
French,  297;    becomes  the  great 
centre  of  In<lian  trade,  297  ;   the 
French  fail  to  ruin,  297,  452. 
Oswe-ro,   Fort,    Dieskau's    plan    to 
caiiture,  352;    Shirley  reinforces, 
358;   importance  of  its  defences, 
358  ;  attacked  by  Montcalm,  359  ; 
surrender  of,  360 ;  losses  on  both 
Bides  at  the  capture  of,  361 ;  burned 
by  the  French,  361 ;  its  capture 
tiic  greatest  feat  yet  accomplished 
in  America  by  the  French  arms, 
361 ;  behaviour  of  its  garrison  not 
discreditable,  362;   the    ruins  of, 
362. 


Index 


535 


Oswego,  Rivci,  258. 
(Houaolia,  Iliiron  town  of,  U8. 
Ottuwjw,   tlie,  at   Fort   l)u  tincsne, 

.•145;    475,477,    492;    at    Hlootly 

Briilgc,   501. 
Ottawa  Kivcr,  tlip,  108. 
OttiT,  clan  of  the,  46.1. 
Ottigny,  Lieutenant,  .37,  42. 


Palack  Battery,  the,  at  Qnelioc,  442. 
Palace  (iate,  tlic,  at  t^uebec,  3S7. 

rari'ut'rt  Creek,  489  ;  Pontiac's  camt) 
on,  494,  495. 

Paris,  the  Parliament  of,  172;  the 
salons  of,  .1i;i;  Wolfe  at,  .'573  ;  the 
I'eace  of,  455  ;  resnlts  of,  458  ;  the 
treaty  of,  482. 

Parry  Sound,  118. 

Passainai [noddy  liay,  370. 

Patino,  3(1. 

Paugus,  war-chief  of  the  Pcqnaw 
kets,  288  ;  death  of,  29G. 

"  Pearl,"  the,  4.5. 

Peuetangnisheno.  Harbor,  118. 

Penn,  William,  324 ;  his  plan  for 
colonial  union,  320 

Pcnn.-<ylvania,  tr.adc  between  the  In- 
dians anil,  258 ;  the  ccdony  of,  319  ; 
differs  from  New  England  anci 
Virginia,  324 ;  descriiitioii  of,  324  ; 
lacking  in  strong  distinctive  char- 
acter, 324  ;  feudal  in  forii,  324. 

Pennsylvanians,  the,  Indians  ills- 
giisteil  by  the  encroachin';uts  of, 
338. 

Peoria  Lake,  27. 

Perez,  Fernando,  40. 

Perth,  Wolfe  at,  372. 

Petraia,  Bisliop  of,  see  /.avul-Mimt- 
morenci,  Fninrnis  Xat'ii  r  <le. 

Petty'.s  Plain,  273. 

Peyt.in,  Lieutenant,  at  Quebec,  413. 

Piiilip  II.,  27  ;  commissions  Menen- 
dez  to  conquer  F'lorida,  29. 

Phii)S,  Sir  William,  .sails  into  the 
Biisin  of  Quebec,  234 ;  demands 
Frontenac's  surrender,  ''"''i ;  F'ron- 
tenac's  reply   to,  237  ;  ms  plan  of 


attack.  238;  attacks  Queliec,  240; 
rctii-es     from     Quebec,    241;     hit- 
crestfallen  return  to  ISoston,  242. 
Pierria,  Albert  de,  left  in  comn\aiid 
of    the  colonies    by    liiliaitt,    15; 
extreme    severity    of,    15;     mur- 
dered  by   his   men,    15. 
Pigwaeket   Indians,   or   I'eiiuau-hcis, 
tatio  lip  the  quarrel  of  the  Norridge- 
w-ocks,  288. 
Picpiet,  Abbe,  the   Sulpitian  priest, 
327  ;  a  zealous  ])olitical  agent,  327  ; 
builds  a  fort,  328 ;    his   influence 
over    the     Iroijuois,   328 ;    cmliar- 
rassed  by  William  Johnson,  332; 
in  tiio  attack  on  Oswego,  361. 
Pitt,     Fort,     Boi.  , net's     e.xfiedition 
re.iches,  008 ;  effectually   relieved, 
509. 
Pitt,   William,    305;    characteristics 
of,     307 ;    363 ;    his    estimate    of 
Howe,  366  ;  422,  423;  Wolfe's  last 
despatch   to,    424 ;    420,    4.54  ;    his 
speech  in  tiie  preliminaries   of  the 
Pe.ice  of  Paris,  456. 
Pittsburg.  330. 
ri/.arro,  Franci.sco,  con{iuest  of  Peru, 

with  De  Soto,  7. 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  311. 
Pommeraye,  Charles  de  la,  70,  74. 
Pomp.idour,   Madame    de,    America 
owes  much  to,  .302 ;  her  inf.ainous 
use  of  her  power,  312;  stinted   in 
nothing  by  Louis  XV.,  313. 
Ponce  de  Leon,  Juan,  sets  out  to  and 
fountain  of  ct'-rnal  youth,  6  ;  ex- 
plores and  names  Florida,   6;  at- 
tempt to  ))l.ant  colony  in  Florida, 
6  ;  death  of,  6 ;  new  light  thrown 
on  discoveries  of,  6. 
Ponchartrain,  the  colonial  minister, 
interview   of   Cadillac   with,   267 ; 
accepts  Cadillac's  plan,  268. 
Ponchartrain,   F'ort,  built  by   Cadil- 
lac. 268. 
Pontbriand,  Bish-p,  ac  Quebec,  420. 
Pontbriaiid,  C  aide  de,  TO,  74. 
Pontgrave.  takes  part  in  DeChastes 
expediliuu     to    Nuw    France,   82 ; 


HI 


536 


Index 


i 


lomnianils  hhii-s  sent  l.v  p.- Mont s 
tn  triul.'  with  the  linliilli",  »*;  *""■ 
Hill  witli  ilie  IJasiims,  ^r);  t'lAkv:^ 
.m-;kp    with    tlif    Busiincs,  H.") ;    rv 
tinii  to  Tii.lnussiu-, 'J4  ;  ri'miiiiis  lu 
cliiirnf  "f  liuiliic,  'J4- 
r.iiiti:if.  llio   Ottawa  iliii'f.  R'l"'*  =*" 
i.ml«issy  t..  UoK'Ts,  47  4;  lii.s  iut.-r- 
vifws  with   Ko};l'1!!,  474,  47.") ;  'le- 
i-i.lo.s  tt.  support  the  KiiKlisli  '•ause, 
475;   his  despotic  |"iw.r,47t;;  pre- 
LMiiineiitlv  emloweil  with  a  ehicl's 
.•haracteiistifs.  47t> ;  liis  faults.  470  ; 
his  iiol.le   (iiialiti<'S,  47fi ;   receives 
marks  of  esteem  from   .Mt)iitealrii, 
477  ;  saves  Delniit  from  an  attack, 
477-    liisappoiuted    I'y   the    treat- 
ment  he  receives  from  the    Eng- 
lish, 477;   his  plot  revealed,  486  ; 
enters    Fort     Detroit,    489;    sees 
that  his  plot  is  defe.iteil,  4'JO;  at 
the  council-house,  490;  his  speech. 
490  ;  (lladwyn's  reply  to,  490 ;  Dal- 
zell  i)lans  a  night-attack  on.  494 ; 
his  cam])  on  Parent's  Creek,  494 ; 
forewarned  of  Dal/.ell's  attack,  494, 
495;    attacks    Dal/.oll,    400:     the 
fight   of  niooily  Bridge,  496-501  ;    1 
the  murder  of,  51.3. 
•'I'orcupine,"    the,    Jervis    in    com- 
mand   of,    435. 
Tortneuf,  l{(d)ineau  do,  cure  of  St. 

Joachim,  417. 
Tort  Koyal,  South  Carolina,  14 ;  De 

Monts  est:ihlishes  himself  .it,  82. 
Portugal,  2-31. 
Pottawattamie     Indians,     the.    183, 

475. 
Povilariez.,  Col;)nel,  with  Montcalm, 

440. 
Prairie  du  Chien,  Fort,  191. 
Preshytcrians,  the.  in  Pennsylvania, 

324  ;  in  New  York,  325. 
Prescott  Gate,  88. 
Proscpi'  Isle,  Fort,  French  and  Indians 

at,  380;  Dalzell  at,  492. 
Prevost.  Major,  receives  the   envoy 

from  Phips,  235. 
I'rideaux,  General,  killed  at  Niagara, 


.•l.H»;    his  plan  to  attack  Niag.ira, 

•IHM. 

I'rotestants,    the,    in     Pennsylvania, 

.324. 
I'rudhomme,  Pierre,  2(»9. 
I'nritan  colonics,  llic,  .'VJl. 
Puritanism,  not  an  unmi.\ed  hlc.-sing, 

32<). 

i'uritans  of  New  Knglaiid,  the,  con- 
tested with  Frendi-Canadians, 
120;  their  liatred  towards  C-'iada, 
.3.33. 

Putnam,  Israel,  224. 

Puysieux,  Manpiis  de,  takes  his  cue 
from  Madame  de  Pompadour,  313. 


QuAKEUs,  the,  in  Pennsylvania,  324. 
Ciuel.ec,   Cartier    at,   72;    origin    of 
name,    88;    Champlain    lays    the 
foundation    of,    89;    plot    to    imt 
Basriues  and  Spaniards  in   posses- 
sion of,  90;  winter  sufferings  at, 
92-  Pontgrave  remains  in  charge 
81,94;  the  English  at,  121  ;  suffer- 
ing at,   122;  the   B.isin  of,   Phips 
sails  into,  234  ;  Phips'  plan  of  attack 
on.  238 ;  Phips  attacks,  240 ;  Frou- 
tenac's  defence  of.  239,  240;  Phips 
retires    from,   241  ;    condition    of, 
241  ;     Woll'e   named    by    Pitt    to 
lead  the  expedition   against,  376; 
Wolfe's     plan    to    attack.     380; 
French   preparations  for   the    de- 
fence  of,    382-388;    garrison    .)f, 
388;    impatience   at,  389;    arrival 
of  tlic  English  fleet,  389 ;  a  natural 
fortress,    394;    weakened   hy    the 
absence  of  Levis,   420  ;   432,  435, 
439;  battle  of,  444-446. 
Quebec,  the  B;usin  of.  Admiral  Saun- 
ders in,  433. 
Queen  Anne's  War,  265. 
Queen's  Battery,  tlio,  at  Quebec,  394. 

R.v.itENF.Af,  Paul,  the  Indian  doctor. 

145,  147. 
Raiiisford,  Captain,  wrorkod  on  the 

Island  of  Anticosti,  242. 


Index 


537 


"  niiVo'n  TroRreno,"  tlic,  305. 

lianiumiy,  ('lievalicr  de.  in  romtnaml 
at  (juci>vc,  .'itts ;  Muutculiii  otikH 
aiil  from,  U> ;  443. 

"  Ilnscnl  Fort,"  sec  AVm'  Oswrgn. 

Kaslcs,  FathtT,  'iS'J. 

Ut-VoUet  Friars,  four  of  tlirlr  nuiiilior 
sjiil  for  Now  France  willi  riiaiii- 
jilaiu,  114;  I'lioosu  a  nilo  for  tlioir 
convnit,  114;  a.><si'riiniPiit  of  laliors, 
114;  a|>j>l_v  for  tlic  as^'istall^^•  of 
tliL-  .Ictuit.s,  IJO;  at  QiioImc,  ;W3. 

"  Kt'lalioiis,"  the  .K-jiiiit,  xpreail  liroail- 
cast  tliroii^hout  Fraiit'C,  l.!."). 

Rfiiiy,  Daniel  de,  Sieur  <lo  ('ourcclle, 
a)i|ioint<'il  (iovernorof  Canada,  1C7. 

Wi'iny,  Fort,  230. 

Kejioiiti};ny,  Lieutenant,  at  Quebec, 
401,  402. 

Restoration,  the,  303. 

Kevolutionary  War,  tlie,  see  War  of 
luilf/iriideiice. 

Rhode  Island,  Colony  of,  319. 

i^iliaut,  Ca]>taiu  Jean,  conimandii 
Hecond  Ilnjjuenot  expedition  to  the 
New  World,  11;  journal  of,  I'i; 
friendly  reecption  hy  the  Indian.s, 
12;  dcliglitful  first  ini])ressions  of 
Florida,  13 ;  eniharks  for  France, 
14 ;  arrival  in  Florida  to  relieve 
L.'iudonniere,  25 ;  arrival  of  tlie 
Spaniards  in  Florida,  34 ;  flees 
before  ihe  Spanish  sliips,  3fi ; 
council  of  w.ir,  37  ;  Ixdil  ]>lan  of, 
38;  interview  witii  Menendez,  52; 
treachery  and  murder  53,  54. 

Riliaut,  Jacques,  45. 

Richelieu,  supreme  in  France,  120; 
annuls  the  privileges  of  tlie  Caens ; 
120;  forms  the  "  Company  of  New 
France,"  120. 

Richelieu  River,  the,  387. 

"  Richmond,"  the  frigate,  391. 

Rigaud,  Pierre  Fran^'ois,  brother  of 
the  Mar(|nis  de  Vandreuil,  in  the 
expedition  against  Oswego,  359. 

Robbins,  Jonathan,  raises  a  company 
to  hunt  Indians,  289;  wounded, 
292. 


Roliirt,  Afx«ter,  4.1. 

RolHTval,  Sieur  de,  efforts  to  jdant  a 
colony  in  Spanish  Florida,  9| 
arrives  at  Cap  Uouge,  81  ;  famine 
and  disea.se,  81 ;  severity  of  rule 
of,  81. 

Rol>isoii,  John,  on  Wolfe  at  the 
Heights  of  Al)rahani,  4'tti. 

Roclier,  Capitaine,  the,  117. 

Rocky  .Mountains,  213. 

Rogers,  <'ajitain  Koliert,  3t'>7. 

Rogers,  Major  Kolx  rt,  on  the  T,akps, 
473;  at  Fort  Niagara,  474;  ail- 
vanees  on  Fi>rt  I'itt,  474;  returns 
to  I'ri'sipi'  Isle,  474  ;  at  the  mouth 
of  tlie  Cliogage,  474;  receives  an 
embassy  from  I'onliae,  474  ;  I'ontiac 
is  friendly  to,  475;  arrives  at 
Detroit,  493  ;  in  the  tight  of  Bloody 
Bridge,  498,499,  500,501. 

Rogers  Rangers,  on  the  I.4ikes,  473 ; 
at  Fort  Niagara,  474;  at  rres(|u' 
Isle,  474 ;  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Cliogage,  474. 

Roland,  Fort,  230. 

]{oman  Catholic  orthodoxy  in  (^anada, 
315. 

Romanists,  the,  in  Peniisylvauia, 
324. 

Rougemont,  I'hilippe,  oi  Amboise, 
death  of,  79. 

Roundheads,  the,  322. 

Rous,scau,  313. 

Rouville,  Hertel  de,  commands  the 
expedition  against  New  Kngland, 
273;  attacks  Deerftehl,  273;  the 
numiier  of  jtrisoners,  281 ;  wounded 
281. 

Roy.il  Americans,  at  Quebec,  412; 
their  losses,  414. 

Royal  Battery,  the,  at  Quebec,  394. 

Royal  Roussill  )n,  the  regiment  of, 
at  Quebec,  412,  441. 

Ruisseau,  St.  Denis,  437. 

Saco  River,  the,  287. 
Sag.ird,  Gabriel,  103. 
Saget,  La  Salle's  servant,  murder  of, 
217. 


538 


Index 


E  It       n' 


■Hb^' 

^■li ' 

sti 

!1  :: 

HI 

,1 

HI 

M 

SaRuonny  River,  72. 

!<t.  Ann's,  lOH. 

St.  AiiRUstinc,  17;  foundinR  of,  3fi0. 

St.   CliiirloH    Kivrr,  the,  72,  H^,  •'!>'•>. 

3Si7,  r.u. 
Suiiit-l'Iiirfiitiii.  <'.>MitP  lie.  tiikcM  lii.i 
cue  from  Ma.Uuiiu  df  I'otiM-a.lour. 
:n:\. 
Siuiiii!  Kt>y,  4.'>J. 
M.  l''riiiii'i?'.  IJ'i. 
St.  Ilfl.n,  I>ln"'l  of,  ""*• 
Stc.  llrll'iio,  ■J't-'. 

St.  Inna.c,  Kriin<<'S  .Iiu  li.Tcau  .lo,  .m 
Tiilun'n  7.e;il  f<>r  tli.'  .Mici'e.ss  <.f  ilio 
ciiloiiy,  17>*. 
Saint  l-iiiai-o,  town  <>f,   iUt.irkcil    I'V 
tlio  fruiiiicis,  U;»;    Imrnea  by  ll»« 
Ir.Hiuois,    147;    rt'li.s   ..f     llfl.ouf 
and  l,alcniiint  fi>und  at.  14'J. 
St.  Ifjnatins.  I'Jii. 
St.  .Itan.  rjl,.'»17. 
St.   Joai-liini,  tlio  pari^li  of,  burned 

bv  Wolfe,  417. 
St.  Jolin's  lUuff,  -JO,  40. 
St.  John,  ihf"  naf  of,  at  Qncbc.-.  441 
St.  .lolin  (Ki.lielieu)  Hiv.T,  the,  ;t7. 
St.  Jo.<ei>h,  \-2t'> ;    mission,  the  (  lean- 
.instavr).  Father  Daniel   at,    141  ; 
tlaL-ked    and    de.stroyed    by    tin- 
lroi[Uc>is,  141. 
St.   1-iinrent,  the   eliurch  of.  on   the 

Islanilof  Orleans,  .!'.»•-'. 
St.  Lawrence,  (iiiK  of,  ;'>•.',  4.'i4 
St.    I-awrenre     Hiver,    the,    (".irtier 
rcaehts,    70;    l.a    Come    sent   to, 
3SJ  ;  4.'>4. 
St.  Louis,  the  ChritP.m,  2;U. 
St.  Louis,  the  jjate  of,  at  (Quebec,  441. 
St.  Louis,  Lake,  am 
St.  Lucia,  restored  to  Frain-p,  4.">4. 
Saint-Lusson,  takes  possession  of  the 

country  of  Hie  U|.i.er  Lakes,  17'.t. 
St.  Madeleine,  mission  of,  145. 
SainleMarie,  Council  of  War,  -17. 
St.  Mary's  Kiver,  .58. 
St.  Michel,  the  heights  of,  421. 
St.  Nicolas,  the  villai;e  of,  4.T1. 
St.     I'anl,   sacked   and     l'"rii< 
Wolfe,  4 ',7. 


•d     bv 


St.  rirrrc,  the  island  of,  4.'i4. 
St.  I'ierre  (Sainl  I'iernl.  Loeardonr 
de,  in  coinmnnd  at  Fort  Le  lliriif, 
.TIG  ;  receives  WjushiiiRton,  330. 
St.  (iuentin,  victory  of,  28. 
St.  Koch,  405, 
St.  Uoche,  8". 

St.  Sacreinent.  Lao, sec  Gmrrii-,  lake. 
St.  Vincent,  4.">>. 

St.    Vincent,   F.arl,   in   roinniand   of 
the  '■  I'orcui.ine,"  4.t.'>;  with  Wolfo 
at  (jtiebec,  4.'l."i. 
Santos,  French  )>ost  of.  42!t,  4."1S. 
Sandnskv,  Fnulish  traders  at,  2.">H. 
Sandusky,  Foit,  Dal/.ell  at,  4'.t2. 
San  Miiteo,  Fort,  repaii'i'd,  .is. 
"  San    I'cbiyo,"     the,     tlaj;-ship      of 

Menende/',  32,  34,  3.'.,  30. 
Satouriona,  Chief,  warm  welcome  to 
(lourtrues.    y^■,     cruel     treatnn'Ut 
from  the  Sp.aniards,  .V.» ;  joins  with 
(ioiir^'ues  against    the   S|>aniarils, 
CO  :  attack  on  the  S|iaiiiards,  M  ; 
victory  over  the  Spaniards,  C:>. 
Sauudcrs,  Admiral,  377,  422,  427. 
Sant   St.    Loiii.s,    .Jesuit   mi.ssiou    of, 
249;    invileil    to   join  aj^ainst  the 
Mohawk  towns,  2.">0. 
Saxe,  Marshal,  3 10,  .'140. 
Seal).  I'oint,  2US. 
Schenectady,  the  Dutch  town  of,  the 

miduifjht  massacre  of,  3.33. 
Schuyler,   Major    I'eter,    Mayor    of 
Aliirjiy,  on  the  trail  of  the  French, 
2.">2. 
Sdiuyler,  Mrs.,  fondness  for   llnwe, 

■M\A. 
Se>;nr,  Count,  31.3. 
Sei;:nior.  the,  in  Canada,  173. 
Seine  Uiver,  the,  13. 
S<doy,  Chief,  ;>(;,  40,  4f>. 
Seneca  Indians,  the.  on  the  war  jiath 

for  the  Ilurons,  142. 
Senp:;al     country,     the,    ceiled     by 

Franco,  4.'>."). 
Seven   Years    War,  the,  301;   nia.le 
Knjjhmd  what  she  is,  .303  ;  ruined 
{."r.^,,,..-.    in    tvv.i    contiueuts.   .303; 
end  of,  406. 


Index 


539 


SheMon,  Ktidign  Jolin,  fortificil 
huuMS  of,  U'* ;  attaekt'il  by  the 
Frciii'li  uiid  ludiuud,  '2'S ;  Mth. 
(Kuiii;;n  Juhn),  killed  by  the 
French  and  Indian-.  2''*. 

Sheldun,  Jolin  (»uu),  ei('a|)e»  from 
thr  French  and  Indians,  2TH. 

Shflilon,  Mary,  captured  by  the 
French  and  IiidianK,  '2'H. 

Sheldon.  Mercy,  killed  by  the  F'rcnch 
and  Indians,  'i'x. 

Sheldon,  Mr:).  Hannah,  capturrd  by 
the  Indians,  27K. 

"  Sheppard,  .lack,"  aoc. 

Shirley,  William,  pivernnr  of  MaH- 
saehnMettN,  .'1  JS< ;  reinforce*  ( tstwego, 
35N;  451. 

Sillery,  ayy,  427,  4.18. 

Siincoo,  Lake,  119. 

Sionx  Indians,  the,  18.1. 

Sister  Creek,  tl.'l. 

Skull  Creek.  14. 

Smollett,  305. 

Sokuki!<  Indians,  the,  356. 

Soli's,  Dr.  do  his  Meras,  47. 

"  Solomon,"  the,  22. 

Sorel,  town  of,  97 

Soto,  Hernando  de,  conquest  of 
I'eru,  with  I'i/.arro,  7 ;  plans  to 
con(|uer  Florida,  7  ;  treatment  of 
Indians  by,  8  ;  discovers  the  Mis- 
sissippi, 8 ;  ileath  and  burial  of, 
8 ;  his  fate  an  insutticieut  waruinj;, 
8;  .•)17. 

Soubisc,  308. 

South  Carolina,  the  colony  of,  326, 452. 

South  Sea,  .'i2. 

Spain,  final  triumph  over  infidels  of 
(iranarla,  5 ;  exalted  ideas  of 
America,  5;  scnil.s  expedition  to 
F'lorida,  7 ;  F'lorida  claimed  by 
Sp.iin,  9  ;  jealousy  of  F'r.inco,  il ; 
I'ap.il  bounty  gives  Florida  to 
Spain,  9 ;  tlie  citadel  of  darkness, 
27;  receives  b.ack  llav:uia  and 
cedes  F'lorid.i,  454  ;  New  Orleans 
and  Louisiana  ni.ade  over  to,  455  ; 
sinking  into  decay,  457  ;  sij;ns  the 
Peace  of  I'aris,  483. 


Spithead,  377. 

SpotsuiMKi,   Governor    of    Virgiiiin, 

urges   the    securiut;  uf    the    Ohio 

Valley,  .'l.i4. 
Sterne,  ;I05. 

Stevens,  escapes  from  Quebec,  430. 
Stirling.  Wolfe  at,  372. 
Stoho,    Major     t(ol)crt,    arrives    at 

Quebec,    430. 
Stoddard,  esca|M's  from  Deerlield,  27ri. 
Stuarts,  the,  receive  their  death-bbiw, 

.'tOj. 
.'^nbercase,  230. 

Sn|«'rior,  Lake,  the  .lesnits  on,  131. 
"  Snthi'riand,"    the,   jirssi's    the    bat- 
teries   of     Quebec,    40C ;     Wolfe's 

tiag-ship,  432,  435. 
Su/a,   Convention   of,    restores   New 

France  to  the  F'rench  Crown,  122. 
"  Swallow,"  the,  ?2. 
Swedes,  the,  in  I'enusvlvania,  324. 


Takoi-ssac,  centre  of  the  Canadian 
fur-trade,  85. 

'I'aeiisas,  the  great  town  of.  211;  v  is- 
iteil  by  Membre  and  Tonly,  211. 

Talon, .lean  Ha]>tiste,  appointed  inten- 
dant  of  Cauaila,  167;  his  personal 
appearance,  174;  his  portrait,  174; 
a  true  disciple  of  Colbert,  174  ;  sets 
himself  to  galvani/.e  Canaila,  175; 
Coll)ert's  instructions  to,  175;  his 
zeal  for  the  colony,  17C;  attem)it 
to  establish  traile  with  the  West 
Indies,  177;  his  policy,  178;  the 
old  brewery  of,  178  ;  his  fidelity  to 
his  trust,  179  ;  urges  the  purclixse 
or  sei/.nre  of  New  Vork,  179;  fail- 
ing health,  179;  a.sks  for  his  re- 
call, 179;  resumes  the  intendancy, 
179. 

Tamaroa-s,  the,  209. 

Tampa  Bay,  7. 

'reanaiistaye',  attacked  and  destroyed 
by  the  Iro(|uois,  141. 

Teissier,  a  jiilot,  21G 

Tetii,  n-voals  conspiracy  to  Chain- 
plain,  sif,  90. 


540 


Index 


Tfxao,  feriiV  idftinn  of,  213. 
'I'liousmiil  IkUikIs'.  Ilip,  256. 
Thro.!  Uivcri*.  I-khI  i;overnor  at,  169; 

liiilitilt  of,  •■'»'*'• 
ThiimUir  Hiiv,  118. 
Tioon.lcro^M,    Fort,    102.    3S6;    the 
Frcmli  jOaii   to  roii.ciitraio  tlicir 
foriTH  at.  M-2\   l.«iitioii   of,   .1.-.ti; 
atti»ik.M\     l.v     Alifriroinl.y.    .'UU  ; 
M.,iit.-Miir»  ^.ll.■t•.•<.sful  dffi'iice  of. 
nr,:,;    Amh.r^tV   i-hiu   to  ii.lvan..' 
oil.   3S<»;    <ii|'ti>r'''l    I'V    Aiiilifrst, 
.1SI  ;    HtMirlaiiiivini'   siiit    to,  ;»SJ  ; 
Aiiilicrxt  iiiariht'H aKaiiixt.  •W^.^"'*  J 
4l"J.  441. 
"  Ti^er."  the.  22. 
ToLaifo  X.itioii.  tho.  fu^itivps^  from 

St.  lionis  in  the  towiiK  of,  14.'>. 
TohaRo.  tlic  Inliiiiil  of.  4.')4. 
Toronto.  tra-iiiiKpost  cstal-lisho.l  \>y 

tlie  French  at.  2'J'. 
Tort<ji:ic.  clan  of  the,  403. 
T.,ry  S<iuire>.,  the,  in  KiiRlan.!.  .105. 

Tourmente.  (":il"'<  '"''•*"• 

Townsli.-tul.  Hri;:a.lier  Coor^'e.  in 
Wolfe's  exjir^ailion,  379;  letter 
from  Wolfe  to,  421;  on  the 
lliit,'lit!«  of   Ahrahiim.   4.39. 

Tc.wiisheiiil.  ('h-irle!".  307. 
Traiv,  Mar.i'ii't  I'ronville  'le.  ap- 
iMiiuted  Lieuteiiaiit-Ceiicral  of 
America.  167:  sets  ont  npaiimt 
the  Mohawks,  ir.8;  success  of  his 
expedition,    lOS;    h-avea    Canailii, 

168. 
Traverse,  the.  390;  the  English  fleet 

jia-ssing,  392. 
Trenchant,  19. 
Trent,  Captain,  336. 
Trent  Uivcr,  the,  119. 
"  Trinity."  the,  flap-ship  of   Rihaut. 

.•J4,  36. 
Trinity  River,  the.  215. 
Tun'iine,  308. 
"  Tiirpin,  Dick,"  306. 
Two  Monntains,  the   Lake  of,  108, 

1.^.9. 
Tvhnrn,  306. 
Tyng,  Captain  Edward,  296. 


ri.«TF.R.  324. 

L'nited  St.itpn,  the,  »npplied  by  the 
Sev.n  Yean.  War  with  the  mdis- 
pensal.le  condition  of  their  Rreat- 
uets,  ••103;  England's  glory  in 
civliiK  hirth  to,  457. 
TpiHT  I-akes.  the,  Snintl.usson  takes 

i„,H,.cssion  ..f  the  country  of,  179- 
rpi«r    Town    (tiuehec),    the.   420; 

Wolfe's   plan   to  att.ick,   421. 
I'rsulines.  the,  177  ;  of  (iUiUc,  ,19.3. 
roller,    Uohcrt,    wounded     hv     the 
IVtiuawkets,   293. 


Vac*.    Alvar     Meiie/.    Cilioea     de, 
false   reports   coiiccriiini,'  Flori.la, 

••  Vaiii,'uard  "  the,  arrives  at  Quelwc, 

441.. 
Vassenr,  Captain,  24. 
Vaiidreuil,  I'avagnal  Pierre  Uigaud 
de,  Rovernor  of  Canada,  sends  a 
large  war  p.irty  against  New  Eng- 
land. 272;   rcjMirts  the  att.ack   on 
Deerliehl  to  I'oiichartr.iin,  281. 
Vmidieuil.  Chevalier  de,  231. 
Vaudreuil.  Maripiis  de,  on  the  eap- 
ture  of  Oswego.  360 ;  musters  his 
forces,  383;  his   continued  hoast- 
iiigs.  383  ;  hastens  to  Qneliec.  384  ; 
his  praise  of  Cadet.  38.''. ;  his  coun- 
cil^  at   Qiiehec.  38S;  his  quarters 
at  Q-cWc.  3S8;  his  rel.itivo  posi- 
tion   CO   Montcalm,  388;  changes 
his  plans.  r:yr, ;  the  flreships.  396  ; 
witnesses  their  failure,  397;  san- 
guine ..;  success.  397  ;  his  letters 
Vo  ll..n'lr»maiine.  397  ;  in  a  defen- 
sive altitude.  405;  tries  again  to 
l.nrn   the    Kiiglish   fleet.  409;    hm 
failure,  410;   his  exultation.  414; 
denounces  English  atrocities.  417  ; 
his  own   atrocitie.s,  417;   sees  hH 
mistake.     419;      breathes      more 
freelv,  420  ;  grows  confident.  427  ; 
saves   Vergor  from  di.sgrace.  430; 
.leLiys  sending  his  forces  to  jom 
Montcalm's,  442. 


ill 


Index 


541 


VailtiMrlili.  440. 

\  fiiiiii;;ii.  llir  liiili:iii  town  of,  I'rcmli 

iitnl  liiiiiuii>  At,  .'Irtil. 
\iir|Minc.  .'ION. 

VlTU/./iU|ii,  .Iiillll,  ViiMljJf  uf,  0. 

NiTilicri's,  Kort  nl.  lri«|iiiii^  iitliii  k 
nil,  at'l;  the  liiToiiii'  i.f,  241-1'4'<. 

\'i'ritu'ri.'S,  M:iri('-.M,i<li'litie  .liiirit 
.!.•,  till'  utorv  of,  a4.1,  •U». 

N'rrcliiT,  ('a|itiiiii,  a4. 

Vrr;;iir.  Captain  l>iir)iii!iilHiii  iU\ 
llic  |iti.»t  iif,  4'-".»,  4'!0;  lliri'ali'iMil 
ilisitratT  <if,  4'!l» :  liiii  <  anli'^K  ilr 
ffiHp,  4'1  J  ;  i'a|itiiri'il  liv  ihr  Kii:; 
li.-li,  4.'17. 

VcrniDiil,  .'l.'l.'t, 

Vrriiit,  .'MO. 

Vi'r!<ailli'.i,  (Irsrriptiuii 
.140. 

\'i;;naii,  Nin.las  ilc, 
wiiilcr  aiiioii);  llic 
rrliirii  t(i  I'aris,  loT 


of,  :;m.  .iio; 

Miliiiitt'i-rs  Ih 
Iiicliaii^.  1(17: 
roiMiirkalili- 
r('|Mirt  lpr"ii(;lit  I'v,  I(i7  ;  lii.-»  faUc- 
IkhmIh  (li-rloMMl,  112;  ulluut'il  tn 
Rii  iiiipiiiii.-'lK'il,  1 1. 1. 

Villafafic,  Aii^^t'l  "le,  failure  to  ri'Ui.h 
Klori.la,  !t. 

Villars,  .lltH. 

N'iiiiiiiit,  Father,  l.t!>. 

V'itji'(-liit,  »"!. 

V'irt;iiiia,  (■'■Iniiy  of,  i-nntraKted  w.iii 
Ni.-w  Kii;.;laiiii,  Mii ;  tli<,'  lower 
I'lasMcs  of,  .'1J2 ;  sinicly  in,  .'122; 
slaviTV  ill,  .'122;  cssi'iilial  aiita,i;i(ii- 
isiii  of  Ninv  I'.iifjlaiiil  anil,  .'124 ; 
stroi;;;  (listiiictivo  rliaractcr  of,  '124. 

Vitri',  Di-.iis  .If,  .389. 

Vollairi',  on  the  complications  of 
polilii'al  iiiton-st.-*,  ;J(II  ;  his  hatred 
of  the  Frciuli  abu.si-s,  .'Ma. 


WaUasii  IJiv.r,  thf.  299. 

U'alkci,  Admiral,  289. 

Walloy,  Major  .lohii,  the  attack  on 
(jnehec,  23" ;  sick  with  the  .small- 
pox, 240. 

War  of  Independence,  the,  in  Amer- 
ica, 301. 


Wardo,  firorjp,  .17B. 

Warren,  .\diiiiral.  Sir  I'clor,  .'129, 

U'anhin^ion,  <ieoi'j;t',  m'ui  \<\  (iov- 
eriior  I'iiiwiddie  to  protest  a;;aiiist 
the  Kri'iich  oiciipat'  1  of  l'ici.|n' 
l>|c,  .•l.'l.'i;  rrniied  hy  St.  I'iirre^ 
.'I'll') ;  his  ri'liirii,  .'L'tr, ;  forlitiis  hlii|. 
yelf  on  the  .Moiioni;ahcla,  .'l.'Hi  ; 
,lliinoii\  illu  will  ii^ain.st  liiiii,  .'l.'IG  ; 
Mirprisis  and  raptures  the  Kniii  h 
force,  .'1.17  ;  falls  hack  to  the  «ireat 
.Meadows,  .'117  ;nttackeil  hy  ,liiinoM 
\ille  (Inithcr),  .'I.'I7 ;  capitulates 
wilh  the  French,  .'l.'17  ;  in  Iliad. 
d'M-k's  exjiedilion,  .'147  ;  in  the  at- 
tack, .'149. 

Weill.,  t'olonel  Daniel,  .'1(;2. 

Welih's  re;{iiiieiit,  on  the  lleightR  of 
.Vhraham,  4'19. 

Wel.Kier,  Moiini.  .'.H. 

Wells,  .lonathan,  fortitieil  house  of, 
274;  fn^ilive>  wilh,  277;  leails  a 
party  against  the  French  and 
Indians,  I'XO. 

WeMey,  73, 

West  Indies,  the, 
e.stahlisli  traile 
and,  177;  378. 

West  liiver,  2.X4. 

Will;;  aristocracy,  the.  in  Fn^Iand, 
doi's  :i  priceless  .service  to  Fn<;lish 
lilierty,  3(t.\ 

White  ijiver,  the    28.">. 

White  Moiintaiii.s,  the,  287. 

Whitetield,  .'iO.'). 

White's  I'hocidate-IIonse,  3t)t;. 

Wliiliii!;,  wounded  in  Lovewells  rx- 
|iedition  against  the  Imiians,  291. 

William  Henry,  Fort,  102  ;  location 
of,  "..-16,  .'IG.'i,  3f.4. 

William  III.,  Kin,:;  of  F,nf;land.  the 
Five  N.'.lions  appeal  fur  protection 
u;;aiiist  the  French  to,  270;  re- 
ceives a  deed  of  their  heav  v 
liiintinf;  grounds  from  the  '  re 
.Nations,  270;  3l).'5. 

William  of  Orange,  .305. 

Williams,  in  the  Battle  of  )  ii..e 
George,  3.")3  ;  death  of,  -Ja.!. 


Talon's  effort  to 
hetweeii    (.'anaila 


542 


Index 


m 


Williams.  F.utiicp,  iti  In<lian  ••aptiv- 

iiv,  a«5. 
Williams,  J"liii,  minister  atDicrhelil, 
274  ;  atta.ke(l  by  the  Krcu.li  aii.l 
Iniliaiis,  •2:6 ;  liis  experieiirt-s  ilur- 
iiij:  captivity,  282--J8f>. 
Williams   (Mrs.  Jolin),  captiircl  Ky 
the  Frcn.li  ami  IiMliaiis,  28:J  ;  sepa- 
rated   from    her     Imshaiid,     I'M; 
killed  hv  the  Indians,  2t<4. 
Williams,"  Samuel,  in  Indian  raptiv- 

itv,  ^S."). 
Wil'liams,   Ste])lien,   carried    up   the 

Conneolicnt,  'i8."i. 
Winnehas')  I-ake.  18!*. 
Winnepesaukee,  28'.». 
Wul.uru,  -iUO. 

Wolfe,    Hrijiadier     James,    72  ;     nis 
estim.ate  <>(  lluwe,  -Mr,:  his  expe- 
dition to  the    «t.    Lawreii.e,  ••i09 ; 
personal   rtiii)earauto   .)f,  JiTl  ;   his 
earlv    life,    .■371;     letters    to    Ins 
mother,  .'na,  .374.   37r. ;    his   mar- 
tial   instincts,  .373;    his   character, 
.373;  his  domestic  life,  .374  ;  letters 
to    his    uncle.   345,   377,   378;    his 
hetrothal,  376;  letter   to   Kicksou 
from,  37t; ;  named  by  Pitt  to  lead 
the     expedition    a£;ainst    Ciuehec, 
376  ;  a  hopeless  eiiipima  to   Niw- 
castle,  376:    tieor-e    ll/s   opinion 
of  him,  377  ;  sails  to  America,  377  ; 
his  c..lleasues.   37',) ;   his   force  at 
(iuehec,  .388  ;  lauds  on  the   Island 
of  ( )rleaiis,  .393  ;  magnitude  of  his 
undertaking,    393;     a      desperate 
game,  39.-i  ;   the  elements  against 
him,  .395;  strength  of  Ids  position, 
397  ;  seizes  Point  Levi,  398  ;  se(>ks 
to  strike  an    effective    hlow,  400; 
occupies  the  Heights  of  Montino- 
renci,  402  ;  danger  of  his  position, 
402;  red  and  white  s.avages.  4(»t ; 
forhids  scalping,  40t  ;   his  procla- 
mation   t(j     the    Canadians,   406; 
hecomes    more     vnliicral>le     than 
ever,  407;  his  severities,  408;  Ids 
desperate    pliin.    410;    attacks   the 
French  camp,  411;  orders  a  retreat, 


413;  deeply    moved    hy    the    di.s- 
asle'r    at    the     Heights    of    Moiit- 
morenci,       415;       rehukes        the 
(ireuadiers,   415;   desp..iidency  of, 
415;    his  plan   to  fortify   Isle-aux- 
Coudres,    416;     lays     waste     the 
parishes.  417:  his  humane  orders, 
417;  illness  of,  420;  a  new  plan  of 
attack,  421  ;  determination  of,  422  ; 
his  last  letter  to  his  mother,  423; 
his  last  despatcdies,  424  ;  his  letter 
to  Iloldernesse,  425:  his  desperate 
situation.  425;   his  plan,  426;  his 
movements,  427;    immense   moral 
force    of,    4.30;    deceives   Bougain- 
ville, 431  ;  his  last  general  onlers, 
4.32  ;  iovaltv  of  the  army  to,  432  ;  a 
pntindcd   att.ack.  433;    the  troops 
emhark,  434;    his  presentiment  of 
death,  435  ;  the  descent  ot  the  St. 
Lawrence,  436  ;  jiasscs  the  sentries, 
4;i7  ;   makes  the  a-ceiit,  437,  438  ; 
the   line  of  hattle,  439  ;  his  oiuui- 
prcsencc,  443  ;  an  anecdote  of,  444  ; 
the   crisis,    444:     the    hattle,   444; 
mortally  wounded,  445  ;  his  death, 
446. 
Wolfe,      Major-General      Edward 

(father),  371. 

Wolfe,  Major  Walter  (uncle),  letters 
froin  Wolfe  to,  375,  377,  378. 

Wolfe,  Mrs,  Fdward  (motlicr).  let- 
ters from  her  >on  to,  372,  374.  375. 

Wolfe's  Cove,  430. 

Wood  Creek,  352. 

Woods,  Sergeant,  with  Lovewell  in 
his  expeditious  against  the  ludians, 

w'van.lots,  the,  in  the  fight  of  Bloody 

iirid-e,  .501.  ,,     ,^  , 

Wyandot  village,  the,  hurncd  hy  Dal- 

iell,  492,  493. 
Wvniau.    Knsisu    Scth,   joins    I-ove- 
wcU's     expeditions     against      the 
In.lian>,      290;      heroic       defence 
against  the  I'e.iiiawkets,  292. 

Y0NVI1.1.E,  Council  of  war,  37. 
York,  306. 


i,: 


III 


IP' 


! 


li^ 


Francis  Parkman's  Works 

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fo,  the  ,,o«.«.m  of  an  '";™'   '"'X  coX,  it  M.<.i 

London.  . 

finest  romance.       1  he  event,    nc   ^  somet  mes  on 

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